


All I Want Is You

by likethenight



Series: All I Want Is You [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/F, Falling In Love, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, the uk lockdown features as a plot device
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:34:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 41,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28797687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likethenight/pseuds/likethenight
Summary: Bard and Thranduil begin to figure out how 'being together' might work for them. It's going to be complicated...and then the world gives them a very big shove to get on and sort themselves out.Sequel toIt's Beginning To Look A Lot Like...
Relationships: Bard the Bowman & Bard's Children, Bard the Bowman/Thranduil, Bard's Children & Fíli & Kíli & Legolas Greenleaf & Tauriel, Bard's Children & Legolas Greenleaf & Tauriel, Legolas Greenleaf & Tilda (Hobbit Movies), Sigrid/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies)
Series: All I Want Is You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2111334
Comments: 146
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And here it is, the entirely not-T-rated sequel to the daft Christmas-movie AU [It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like...](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28072815). Yay!
> 
> I was going to write a very smutty epilogue and then a sequel, and then the epilogue just sort of morphed into the first couple of chapters of this and I thought, all right, might as well just go for a sequel and have done with it.
> 
> This story is, for reasons that will become apparent, set in early 2020. This means that the pandemic and first lockdown in the UK are going to figure in the plot, so do proceed with caution if that's a sensitive subject for you. However, this story is going to be very fluffy, and Covid is going to be a background thing influencing circumstances for the characters, rather than something that affects them directly. The angst will be coming from their very different backgrounds and the difficulties of working out how to be equal partners in their relationship. There will also be at least one Lady Chatterley joke, because Bard and I are both very conscious of the differences in their situations, and I live to take the piss out of D H Lawrence. XD
> 
> Oh yeah, and the title is taken from the song of the same name by U2. I felt the lyrics rather summed everything up, although they're not a perfect fit. :)
> 
> Huge thanks, as always, to my indispensable beta [lemurious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemurious)! <3333333 And to everyone who read, kudos'd and commented on It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like... :D I had a whale of a time writing that one and I'm hoping this one is going to be just as much fun!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the Saturday after New Year and the kids are all at the cinema, and going out for pizza after. This means that Bard and Thranduil have Greenwood Hall all to themselves. Will they carry on being sensible and taking things slowly? Let's see...

Bard delivered his last parcel for the day, and checked his phone; two text message notifications had appeared on the screen since he had last looked, one from Sigrid and one from Thranduil. He smiled; Sigrid’s said _Off to the cinema now, see you later!_ and Thranduil’s said _The house is ours. I will see you when you have finished your shift._ 😉

Bard tapped out two replies - _OK, have fun, see you later x_ to Sigrid and _Just finishing up now, with you in half an hour_ 😊 to Thranduil - then put the van in gear and pulled away from the kerb, turning in the direction of Greenwood Hall. It was the Saturday after New Year, and he hadn’t seen Thranduil since Boxing Day, but all the children were going to the cinema together and then for pizza, before Legolas and Tauriel had to head back to boarding school, and Thranduil had suggested that he and Bard should spend some time together - alone. And Bard had jumped at the chance, before he had the opportunity to think too much about it. 

Thranduil had asked Bard if he and the children would like to spend New Year with him, but Bard had had to decline; his parents were coming up from Swansea for a couple of days and he thought it was definitely too early to take them with him to Greenwood Hall. He had been a little relieved, if he was honest with himself; everything had moved so fast, at Christmas, even though both of them had agreed they must take things slowly. And he was still intimidated by the difference in their circumstances, still could not for the life of him work out how they could possibly hope to build an equal relationship between them. It was easy for Thranduil to paint a rosy future in which he solved all of Bard’s problems with his money, like a fairy godfather or something, but much as Bard might want to let him, he couldn’t quite bear to. He thought he wouldn’t be able to look at himself in the mirror if he gave up now, just handed over the job of supporting himself and his children to someone else, someone with money, someone who could hold it over him, should things go badly between them. He wanted to think that Thranduil would not do that to him, but - but it was too important, and they did not know each other well enough yet.

But at the same time, he could not deny or ignore how he felt about Thranduil, how his heart leapt every time he saw his name on the screen of his phone, how he couldn’t stop thinking about him. Ever since he had driven away from Greenwood Hall on the evening of Boxing Day, the kids chattering excitedly next to him in the van’s front seat, his head had been filled with thoughts and memories of Thranduil, of his soft voice and his touch and his kiss and the smile on his face when he looked at Bard…oh, Bard thought, he was doomed. 

They had been sending text messages back and forth ever since, most of them either flirtatious or suggestive, and some of them both; and at midnight on New Year’s Eve, Thranduil had sent him the clinking champagne glasses emoji, and then _I wish you were here, though I understand why you’re not. I hope we’ll be able to see a lot more of each other this year._ He had followed that up with the winking smiley and Bard had had to pretend absolutely nothing was the matter in front of his parents and his kids (although Tilda was more or less asleep on the sofa at that point), while trying not to blush, and also trying not to think too hard about what that winking smiley might mean, or what it might lead to.

And today they would be alone in Thranduil’s enormous house for at least a couple of hours while the kids entertained themselves elsewhere, before they came back to spend the night, and he had the distinct feeling that their resolve to take things slowly would be sorely tested, if not broken. 

The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if it actually mattered.

He pulled up at the gates to Greenwood Hall and pressed the buzzer; Thranduil’s voice came from the speaker almost immediately, and Bard grinned to himself, had he been watching the camera?

“I’ll meet you in the stable yard,” said Thranduil through the tinny little speaker, and the gates swung open for Bard to drive through. He headed up the drive, turning off towards the stable yard, feeling suddenly nervous and excited all at once, butterflies in his stomach and pins and needles under his skin. 

Thranduil was waiting outside the garage, wearing a slim, padded jacket and dark jeans, his hair pulled back into a ponytail, looking absolutely stunning in the fading late-afternoon light. Bard couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face at the sight of him.

He pulled the van into the garage and opened the door, and his feet had barely hit the ground before Thranduil was upon him, pinning him back against the side of the van and kissing him hard. Bard’s hands came up to frame Thranduil’s face, his fingers sliding back into his hair, pulling him closer, kissing him back just as hard, almost desperately.

“Hi,” he said, almost gasping for breath, when they finally broke apart, and Thranduil laughed equally breathlessly. 

“Hello,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”

Another smile made its way across Bard’s face. “Likewise,” he said, shifting a little so that his arms went around Thranduil’s waist, his hands resting in the small of Thranduil’s back. “I’ve been thinking about you all the time.”

“Likewise,” echoed Thranduil, arching forward a little, and Bard caught his breath as he felt the length of Thranduil’s body against his, felt that Thranduil was in a similar state to him, which made him feel it even more intensely. 

“Are we still…taking things slowly?” he asked, and Thranduil laughed again.

“I know we should,” he said. “But on the other hand, this is probably the only time we will have the house to ourselves for a long time, and I’m not sure how much I’m going to be able to resist you.”

“Good point,” said Bard. “I mean, we should. But…oh, christ, this is going to be complicated, isn’t it? I thought it would be less complicated if we take things slowly, but it’s going to be complicated anyway, so…”

“So maybe we should just take everything as it comes,” said Thranduil, pressing a kiss to Bard’s mouth. “We already know that we’re serious about each other, I think. And that we are prepared to work through the complicated bits. So…”

Bard grinned. “So maybe we should go indoors.” 

“Maybe we should,” said Thranduil, grinning back and stepping away, just enough that Bard could lean into the van and grab his overnight bag; then he took Bard’s hand and pulled him out of the garage towards the house. They went through the archway and then, rather than making for the front door, Thranduil guided them to another archway, into the kitchen garden and across to the boot room door. Stepping indoors, Thranduil shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up, kicking his shoes off and placing them on the rack, and Bard undid his boots and placed them alongside, dropping his bag on the floor by the boot rack; he could come back and get it later. 

“Now,” said Thranduil, grasping Bard’s hands and pulling him close again for another kiss, hard and searing, “come with me.” He made for a door at the other side of the room, not the kitchen door - this one led into a hallway with a staircase leading upwards, the walls whitewashed and the stairs plain sanded wood. 

Bard laughed, only a little breathlessly this time. “Are you smuggling me in up the back stairs?” he asked. “Does this make you Lady Chatterley?”

“I’m hardly that,” laughed Thranduil, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “And you’re definitely not my gamekeeper.”

“Your bit of rough, then?” teased Bard, and Thranduil rolled his eyes. 

“You’re not that, either,” he said. “You’re my boyfriend. I hope. Although we’re probably both of us too old for that word.”

Bard grinned delightedly. “Happy to be,” he said. “So are you going to take me upstairs?” He leaned in for a kiss. “Lady C,” he said against Thranduil’s mouth, and Thranduil laughed and rolled his eyes again. 

“Shut up and get upstairs,” he said, tugging on Bard’s arm, and they headed up the stairs; by the time they reached the top they were almost running, both of them laughing, and at the top of the stairs Thranduil grabbed Bard, backed him against the wall and kissed him very soundly, arching forwards against him again. 

“How long have we got?” Bard asked after a moment, his hands at Thranduil’s hips, holding him firmly in place. 

“At least a couple of hours,” Thranduil said. “Tauriel said the film was at four, so they won’t be out until about six, and then I suppose another hour for them to get pizza, half an hour to get back here. So - perhaps three hours.” He flashed Bard a grin, bright and mischievous. “Plenty of time, in other words.”

“Good,” said Bard. “And much as there’s about a hundred places in this house I’ve been thinking of trying it on with you, I’m thinking we ought to start out with your bed.” He chuckled a little sheepishly. “Only I’ve lost my bearings and I’ve got no idea where it is.”

Thranduil laughed, arching forwards again. “We’re at the back of the south wing. So we just need to go through that door, past a lot of empty, useless bedrooms and the children’s rooms, and then turn left.”

“Lead on, then, Lady C,” said Bard, grinning, and Thranduil growled softly. 

“I hope you’re not planning on calling me that long-term,” he said, and Bard gave him an unrepentant smile. 

“We’ll see,” he said. “Now, didn’t you say something about going through that door?”

“So I did,” said Thranduil, and he pulled away, taking Bard’s hand again and leading him through the door and along the corridor; Bard was mostly distracted by the sight of Thranduil walking just a little ahead of him, the fall of his hair down his back in that long, long ponytail, the way he moved, all elegance and grace although they were both wound up almost beyond belief by this point - but he noticed they were passing a row of closed doors on each side of the corridor and he thought he recognised it from when they had come up here at Christmas - and then they were turning the corner and he realised where they were. The main staircase was ahead of them to the left, and the door to Thranduil’s bedroom was on the right, standing invitingly open.

Bard shivered, the enormity of what they were about to do beginning to make its way through to him. He let Thranduil lead him along the corridor and through the door, let him push it closed behind him, let Thranduil walk him over towards the bed - and then he stopped, putting his hands on Thranduil’s shoulders for a moment, leaning in to kiss him, very softly.

“Do you think we should talk about this, a bit?” he murmured, a little reluctant but knowing all the same that it was important for both of them to go into this with open eyes.

“Probably,” said Thranduil, drawing one finger down the side of Bard’s face. “I don’t much want to, right now, I just want to get you into that bed. But you’re right.” He sighed, looking down for a moment. “I have very little experience at this,” he said quietly, “as I think you have probably deduced, and none whatsoever with another man. But I want you. Quite desperately.” He looked back up at Bard, and the intensity in his gaze almost took Bard’s breath away. 

“I want you too,” he whispered. “But I don’t want to do anything you don’t want, anything you’re not ready for.”

“And I appreciate it,” said Thranduil. “You’re a true gentleman.” He smiled sharply. “But I’m not a nervous teenager. I trust you, and I want you. All of you. Or as much as you’re comfortable with.” He pushed Bard’s hoodie back off his shoulders and then slid his hands up underneath Bard’s t-shirt. 

Bard drew in a long, shuddering breath. “Jesus _Christ_ , I want you. I’ve been having inappropriate thoughts about you all week.” 

“How inappropriate?” Thranduil wanted to know, mischief dancing in his eyes, and Bard chuckled a little sheepishly. 

“Very,” he said, his fingers going to the top button of Thranduil’s shirt and gradually easing it open. “Beginning with what you look like under all this -“ he undid the second button, and then the third, “and - well, going on from there.”

“Oh, good,” said Thranduil, shoving Bard’s shirt up so that he had to raise his arms and let Thranduil pull it over his head to drop it on the floor. “I’m so glad I’m not the only one.” He smoothed his hands over Bard’s chest, his fingers grazing over Bard’s nipples, and Bard caught his breath, hastening to undo the rest of Thranduil’s shirt buttons. 

Bard felt a little self-conscious, he knew he wasn’t in as good shape as he had once been, but the gym had been one of the first luxuries to go when he had lost his job, and since he’d had the delivery job he hadn’t had time to work out anyway. And Thranduil, he discovered as he opened his shirt and pushed it back off his shoulders, was in glorious shape, lean and sculpted and completely smooth-chested, like a statue or something, he had to stop and stare for a moment, torn between wonder and a sharp desire to put his own shirt back on.

But Thranduil was skittering his fingers hungrily all over Bard’s torso, apparently completely unconcerned, and Bard told the voice in the back of his head very firmly to shut up, as he let his hands trail down over Thranduil’s strong, toned arms, his sculpted chest, his taut stomach, down to his waistband, where he paused, just for a moment, just to be sure. 

“Go on,” murmured Thranduil, his fingers dancing over Bard’s belt buckle. “And I will, too.”

Bard drew in a deep breath and leaned in to press a kiss to Thranduil’s mouth, slow and deep, hoping to distract himself a little from the sensation of Thranduil undoing his belt, the button of his jeans, the zip…Thranduil was not wearing a belt, only button-up jeans, and Bard concentrated very hard on undoing the buttons, and kissing him, and not getting too carried away, because it had been a _very_ long time since he had done this, and a very long time since he had been this wound up, and - oh, _christ_ , there was no underwear under those jeans and this was suddenly very, very real. He pulled away, gasping for air, struggling to calm his breathing down, and Thranduil grinned sharply at him, fingers shoving at his jeans and shorts, the decent black ones again because there was _definitely_ a good reason to wear them this time - 

“Now, get those off and get into bed, will you?” Thranduil said, and Bard let out a surprised, relieved laugh, doing as he was told, as Thranduil followed suit and then pushed him backwards onto the bed, crawling up over him. “I think we have about two and a half hours left to us,” he said. “I think we should make the most of every moment.”

Bard shifted a little so that he was lying back against the pillows, and then curled his hands around Thranduil’s hips, pulling him down against him and leaning up for a kiss at the same time.

“I think you’re absolutely right,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going for posting once a week on Saturdays with this one...let's see how it goes!
> 
> Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying the story, do feel free to leave a comment and let me know - long or short or a single emoji, every single one absolutely makes my day. :)
> 
> I am [nocompromise-noregrets](https://nocompromise-noregrets.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr, by the way, so if any of you would like to come and find me there I would love to see you.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil makes some very pleasant discoveries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, here's another chapter! Partly because this AU is eating me alive and I'm not writing quite as much as I should on the other stories I have on the go...and partly because you lovely people were so nice about chapter 1! We are getting right into earning the rating here. :D

Thranduil knelt astride Bard’s thighs, just looking at him for a long, delicious moment. He was lean and toned but not overly muscular, and Thranduil wondered for the first time whether he had been going without food to make sure the children could eat; he was slightly thinner than his build implied. Well, there wasn’t much he could do about that every day, but when Bard and the children were here, there would be plenty of opportunity for them to eat whatever they wanted.

But this was no time for those thoughts. For now - Thranduil smoothed his hands over Bard’s chest, fingers fluttering over the scattering of dark hair, grazing his nipples; Bard drew in a shaky breath at that and Thranduil grinned. 

“You are glorious,” he said. “I want to lick every inch of your skin. And I’m going to. But first -“ he paused, drawing in a breath, biting his lip, even thinking the words was winding him up further, giving them voice, imagining how it would feel… “first, I want you. I want you inside me, I want you to fill me, I want…I want all of you.” He paused, drew in a breath. “If you want to,” he said, that was more important than anything else.

“If I - fuck, of _course_ I want to,” said Bard breathlessly. “I’ve been thinking about nothing else all week. Very inconvenient it’s been too, sometimes.” He laughed, and reached up to touch Thranduil’s face for a moment, cradling his jaw in his hand. “You are incredibly distracting.”

“Good,” said Thranduil. “Now - how have you been thinking about me? How do you _want_ me?” He grinned sharply again, leaning down for a kiss, thinking that this was somehow easier than he had expected. He had expected to feel awkward, nervous, but instead he felt completely at ease and utterly, utterly consumed with desire.

“On your back,” said Bard, “with your hair all across the pillow.” He reached up and took hold of the band that was holding Thranduil’s hair back in its ponytail, easing it down and away; Thranduil shook his head so that his hair fell forward over his shoulders, and Bard let out a soft sound somewhere between delight and frustration. “Christ, you’re beautiful,” he said, and he bucked upwards, flipping them over so that Thranduil lay on his back, his hair spread out over the pillow as Bard had wanted, with Bard above him, pressing down against him in the most delightful, tantalising friction. 

“So are you,” said Thranduil, reaching up to curl his hand around the back of Bard’s neck and pull him down for a long, deep kiss, arching against him and sending his other hand skittering down Bard’s spine to rest in the small of his back, pinning him firmly in place. He drew in a deep breath, savouring every sensation, everything he had been dreaming of for the last week - and far longer, if he was truly honest with himself. It was sweeter by far already than anything he could have imagined, and hungry as he was for more, he wanted this moment to last as long as possible, this moment and all the others. 

On the other hand, they did not have all day; the children would be home in a couple of hours, and Thranduil did not like to think of the consequences if he and Bard were not dressed, downstairs and decorous by the time they arrived. He growled softly, and Bard raised an eyebrow, grinning down at him. 

“What’s that for?” he asked, and Thranduil sighed. 

“Only that I would like to spend the rest of the day and all night exploring you, showing you what I like, finding out what you like. But we don’t have that much time.”

Bard chuckled softly. “And there’ll be hell to pay if the kids catch us like this,” he said. “So I suppose we’d better get on with it, not that I’m complaining, _at all_. Have you got -?”

“I have,” said Thranduil, stretching out an arm to open the drawer in the bedside table and feeling inside; ah, there it was, the small bottle and the little square packet he had put there earlier in reasonable confidence that he would be needing them. He showed them to Bard, who nodded, a small smile twitching at his lips. 

“Okay,” he said. “I mean, I know we had our results back, I know we’re both clean, but - at least the first time I think we ought to use one of these.” He took the condom packet from between Thranduil’s fingers, and set it on the table. “But not quite yet. There’s a few other things I want to do first.” 

Thranduil raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to ask what Bard meant by that, but then Bard shifted against him and bent to kiss a trail down his neck, his hands smoothing up and down Thranduil’s upper arms, and Thranduil completely forgot what it was he was going to say. Instead he tangled his fingers into Bard’s hair, tipping his head back and gasping as Bard worked his way further down, licking and nibbling along his collarbone, further down to catch a nipple between his teeth - and Thranduil could not help the tiny cry that escaped him at that, arching up, desperate for friction and suddenly ten times more aroused than he had been only moments before. 

“If you keep that up, I’m not going to last any respectable amount of time at all,” he half-gasped. “Don’t think less of me, only it’s been a very long time since I…”

Bard raised his head and grinned sharply, although it softened almost immediately into a warm, affectionate smile. “I know. Same here.” He shifted again - more thoroughly delicious friction - and brushed a kiss over Thranduil’s mouth. “On the other hand,” he said, “if this ends up all being over pretty quickly, we’ll have time to go again before the kids get back.”

Thranduil laughed out loud and pulled him down for another kiss. “Get on with it, then,” he said, and Bard chuckled, shifting a little again and sending his fingers tracing down Thranduil’s torso, taking him in hand and stroking firmly. 

“How’s that?” he murmured, and Thranduil tipped his head back again, a breathless cry escaping him and his fingers skittering up Bard’s back, digging into his shoulderblades. 

“Wonderful,” he gasped. “Don’t stop.”

“Your wish is my command,” said Bard, a smile in his voice as he dipped his head to press an open-mouthed kiss just below Thranduil’s ear. “I can bring you off like this if you like,” he whispered after a moment, and Thranduil had to haul in a long breath before he could answer. 

“No. I mean…I want you to…but I want you in me more.” He laughed. “I feel like a child who has been told he can only have one sweet, and who wants all of them at once. I don’t want to have to choose.” He drew in a long, shuddering breath and then let it out again in a sigh. “I want you to come with me,” he whispered after a moment; he was not quite used to being this specific, but Bard put him so at ease, and somehow he did not feel as shy as he had expected to.

Bard made a soft, delighted noise, and kissed him hard. “Honestly, I think just watching you come would be enough to get me off,” he said. “But - well.” He picked up the bottle of lube from the bedcovers where Thranduil had dropped it, distracted, and flipped the cap open. “As long as you’re sure?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been as sure of anything in my life,” said Thranduil. “I want to know what it feels like.”

“Weird at first, but incredibly good if I do it right,” Bard grinned. “I mean, I’m out of practice, but -“

Thranduil laughed again. “I imagine it’s like riding a bike, you don’t forget,” he said. “Only, will you please get on with it? _Please_?”

“Sorry,” said Bard, though he didn’t look particularly repentant. He grabbed a pillow and nudged Thranduil to raise his hips, tucking it underneath him, and Thranduil watched as he squeezed some of the lube onto his fingers and then slid his hand down between Thranduil’s legs, tracing back and forth over his entrance for a moment; it felt odd, yes, slippery, but then Bard slipped one finger a little inside him and that did feel strange, not uncomfortable, just…odd. He squirmed a little, involuntarily, and Bard frowned. 

“Are you all right?” he asked, and Thranduil nodded.

“Very much so. It’s just…a little strange. Like you said. Sorry.”

“No need to apologise,” Bard said, the frown melting away again. “Try and relax, and I’ll help you.” He slid his finger a little further in, gently massaging, and Thranduil drew in a deep breath and willed the tension out of his muscles; it wasn’t easy, but the gentle pressure of Bard’s finger was helping, and when Bard began to pepper soft kisses down his neck and across his chest it gave him another sensation to focus on and the tension melted away a little more. 

Thranduil tipped his head back, sliding his fingers into Bard’s hair again, and then suddenly Bard’s finger brushed up against _something_ inside him that sent a jolt of absolute pleasure darting through him, and he almost jumped, involuntarily pushing down on Bard’s finger. 

“What _was_ that?” he gasped, and Bard smiled broadly. 

“ _That_ was your prostate,” he said, “and it very handily makes this,” he nudged against it again and Thranduil let out an almost frantic, moaning cry, “feel absolutely incredible.”

“I’ll say,” said Thranduil. “Keep doing that and I won’t last, either.”

“Try and hold on,” said Bard, grinning. “This isn’t the half of it.”

“Oh, _Christ_ ,” Thranduil said, with feeling, and Bard kissed him.

“Hold on,” he whispered, and he slid his finger out; Thranduil almost whimpered in disappointment but then Bard slipped two fingers into him and he caught his breath instead, biting his lip and gasping and reminding himself to relax again.

Deep breaths, he thought, deep breaths, and gradually he felt the tension easing away as he adjusted to the pressure of Bard’s fingers, gently coaxing him open; and every now and then Bard would nudge against that spot inside him and he would arch and shudder and cry out at the sensations darting through him, until he could no longer bear it. 

“Please,” he gasped, “enough,” and Bard smiled and leaned down to kiss him, slow and deep.

“Are you sure?” he murmured and Thranduil nodded. 

“Yes,” he said emphatically, or as emphatically as he could manage. “ _Please_.”

“All right,” said Bard, reaching for the condom packet, and Thranduil took it from him. 

“Let me,” he said. “I want to touch you, I don’t know why I haven’t already -“

Bard grinned. “I think you’ve been a bit distracted, so I’ll let you off,” he said, crooking his fingers a little, and Thranduil gasped and shivered, concentrating on tearing open the packet, carefully taking the condom out and slipping one hand between them, catching his breath as he wrapped his fingers around Bard’s arousal and stroked, gently at first but then more firmly; Bard let out a low moan, and Thranduil smiled, stroking again and then easing the condom onto him, eliciting another moan. Thranduil felt around on the bedcovers until he found the bottle of lube and put it to good use, and then - and _then_ \- he almost whimpered as Bard slipped his fingers out of him and shifted, positioning himself carefully and beginning to push inside.

Thranduil caught his breath and wrapped his arms around Bard’s upper body, pulling him down for a kiss and hitching his legs up, after a moment wrapping them around Bard too, crossing his ankles and resting his heels in the small of Bard’s back, arching up and urging him on. It felt - strange, certainly, more of a stretch now, but so deliciously, intimately _right_.

“Are you all right?” Bard murmured, pausing, and Thranduil nodded, tipping his head back and gasping.

“Yes,” he whispered, “please, don’t stop, I want you so badly,” and Bard nodded, biting his lip as he eased further in, further, until he came to rest fully sheathed within Thranduil’s body with a long, moaning sigh. 

“Oh, christ,” he murmured, “you feel so good, _so good_. I - _oh_ -”

Thranduil drew in a deep, shuddering breath, and then let it out, very slowly. “You - oh, I didn’t know this could feel…mmmhhh…” And then all of a sudden the pressure was too much and he shifted a little, attempting to buck upwards. 

“Do you need me to move?” asked Bard, amusement simmering at the back of his voice, mingling with the dark timbre of arousal, and Thranduil nodded.

“Please,” he said, a little frantically. “I’m not going to last, but…please, just move?”

Bard chuckled softly. “Your wish is - _ah!_ \- very definitely my command,” he said, and began to move, easing out and then very slowly back in, sliding all the way against that sensitive spot inside, drawing a moaning cry from Thranduil’s lips, and then another, gradually increasing his pace and Thranduil could do nothing but roll his hips up to meet Bard’s thrusts, his increasingly frantic cries tumbling over each other as the sensations built and built inside him, higher and higher until he could bear it no more, tipping his head back and letting out a long, ragged moan as it crashed over him, catching him up and making him almost black out for a moment; he was dimly conscious of Bard shuddering and crying out above him and then lowering himself carefully to rest on his elbows, not quite letting Thranduil take his weight.

Thranduil tightened his arms around him and uncurled his fingers from where they had been digging into Bard’s shoulders, though he had not realised it. 

“You - oh, you are _glorious_ ,” Thranduil whispered, arching his neck to bury his face in Bard’s hair, and Bard let out a shaky, breathless laugh.

“So are you,” he murmured, “honestly, the look on your face, when you - ah, fuck _me_ , you’re beautiful.”

Thranduil felt a broad smile creeping across his face. “Give me a moment or two,” he said, and when Bard laughed he tilted his face up for a kiss. “I will be _very_ delighted to do that for you, later. But for now I think I just want to lie here with you, like this, for a little while.”

“We can do that,” said Bard. “I mean, I don’t think I can move just yet. And as long as we’re presentable later, then that’s all that matters.”

“Maybe I can tempt you into my shower, in a bit,” said Thranduil, grinning, and Bard grinned back and kissed him hard. 

“Oh, you can definitely tempt me in there. As long as you’re in it too, I’m happy.”

“I think we can work with that,” said Thranduil, and he buried his face in Bard’s hair again, breathing him in and sighing contentedly; he suddenly felt absolutely, blissfully happy for the first time in longer than he could remember, almost as though a weight had been lifted away from him. Maybe they hadn’t quite managed to take things as slowly as they had intended, but this - this was right, he knew it was. It had to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying the story, do feel free to leave a comment and let me know - long or short or a single emoji, every single one absolutely makes my day. :)
> 
> I am [nocompromise-noregrets](https://nocompromise-noregrets.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr, by the way, so if any of you would like to come and find me there I would love to see you.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard and Thranduil make themselves presentable before the kids get back. It, uhm...takes a while. :D

Bard sighed contentedly and stretched, shifting lazily; they had been lying tangled together for a while now, fingers idly tracing patterns on each other’s skin. He felt utterly contented, all of his worries smoothed away although he knew they would return soon enough. But for now, lying here with Thranduil in his arms, head pillowed upon his chest and all of that glorious hair draped across Bard’s skin, he could pretend that none of it mattered.

“How long have we got until the kids get back?” he asked eventually, reluctantly, unwilling to break the spell but conscious that they would have to be presentable by the time the children arrived back from their evening out.

Thranduil stretched languidly and reached across to the bedside table, checking the display on his phone. “About an hour and a half,” he said, propping himself up on one elbow and looking down at Bard with a smile.

“Mmm,” said Bard, “good. Plenty of time.”

Thranduil chuckled softly. “Did you have anything in particular in mind?”

Bard grinned, reaching up to tuck a long strand of hair behind Thranduil’s ear, letting his fingers graze against the side of his face. “Oh, I’ve got plenty of things in mind. I’m just not sure which of them to choose, and we definitely haven’t got time to do them all.”

Thranduil raised an eyebrow. “Really? Do tell. I’m intrigued.”

“Well,” said Bard, “there are a _lot_ of rooms in this house, and - you know, I keep thinking of things we could do in some of them.” He chuckled. “I nearly put the van in a ditch the other day, because I suddenly found myself thinking about sucking you off on those stairs out there, with all those portraits of your ancestors disapproving of us.”

Thranduil caught his breath and bit his lip, looking suddenly very interested. “Did you really?” he murmured, almost purring, and Bard leaned up to kiss him, hard.

“I did. Only realised what I was doing at the last moment, nearly backed right in there.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” said Thranduil. “But I do like the idea that nearly made you do it. Any others?”

Bard grinned again. “I thought it might be fun to clear the papers off your desk and then put you over it. Or have you put me over it.” He kissed Thranduil again, dipping his tongue into Thranduil’s mouth, and then pulled back again, just enough to speak. “And I can’t stop thinking of those long mirrors in that ballroom down there. Of having you up against one of them so that you can see the look on your face when I make you come.”

Thranduil let out a tiny, soft moaning sound, closing his eyes for a moment. “And the look on your face, when you lose yourself inside me,” he murmured. “You are delightful.”

“So are you,” said Bard. “And that’s only three things that have been distracting me. I couldn’t possibly choose one.”

Thranduil laughed softly, and leaned down for a kiss, letting his hair fall about their faces. “Neither could I, not at this moment. We’ll have to work our way down the list, when we have the opportunities.” He smiled, and kissed Bard again. “Of course, after the middle of next week I will be alone here, save for Galion. If you happened to have time during the day, ever…” He trailed off and Bard smiled a little ruefully.

“It’s not often I get a spare moment - but this is motivation to find one or two, all right. I’ll see what I can do.” He didn’t want to say that his days were so full that he barely made it home for dinner more often than not, and he could not leave the children to fend for themselves just so that he could - he cut that thought off before it could get any further. No - this was going to be difficult enough, there was no point thinking about it _now_.

“I am sure we can find some time to ourselves before too long,” said Thranduil, and Bard wondered if his thoughts had been clear to see upon his face. “But for now - well, we do need to have a shower, and perhaps if we go in there together we might find one or two other things to do?”

“Oh, now there’s a thought,” said Bard, banishing all other thoughts to the back of his mind and pulling Thranduil down for another deep, searing kiss, one hand sliding down his spine to spread in the small of his back, holding him close and tight as Bard arched up against him.

It took them a while to move from the bed, after that, and when Thranduil checked his phone again they only had an hour left. 

“I suppose we’d better get that shower,” said Bard, and Thranduil laughed. 

“I think we should,” he said. “Otherwise the children will discover us and we definitely don’t want them seeing us like this.”

Bard shuddered. “Definitely not. Come on, then. Shower. And then I suppose we’d better get something to eat, seeing as the kids are going to be full of pizza when they get back.”

“I’ll make us something,” said Thranduil, stretching lazily. “But first, a shower. And maybe something else, at the same time.”

“You first,” said Bard, nudging Thranduil very gently, and Thranduil laughed again, leaning in for a kiss and then rolling over, sliding to his feet and padding across the room towards the bathroom door, his hair swishing down his back as he moved. Bard allowed himself a few seconds to stare, and then followed, keeping a firm hold on his insecurities.

The bathroom was bigger than Bard’s living room, the walls and floor tiled in silver-grey marble, a huge cast-iron bathtub on claw feet standing against one wall, and the whole of the opposite wall was taken up by an enormous shower. Bard had tried not to be too overwhelmed by it when he had showered on Boxing Day morning, but this time he had a very compelling distraction in the form of Thranduil, who had a hand stretched out to pull him close. 

“Come here,” said Thranduil, reaching out to turn the water on, “and kiss me while we wait for the water to run warm.”

Bard went willingly, slipping his arms around Thranduil’s waist and tilting his head up for a kiss - he still was not used to this, to Thranduil’s height, to being with someone taller than himself, but it was nice, he thought; he found he really liked it.

Soon enough the water was warm and Thranduil nudged Bard underneath the showerhead, reaching out for a hair band from a hook on the wall and twisting his hair up into a knot on the back of his head. 

“We don’t have time to do what I hope we’re going to do and for me to dry all this before the children get back,” he explained with a smile as he came to join Bard under the water. “So I’m going to try and keep it out of the way.”

“Fair enough,” said Bard. “I’d like to wash it for you sometime, if you don’t mind.”

Thranduil smiled. “I would love that. You can wash the rest of me for now, though, if you like.”

“Oh, I definitely like,” said Bard, reaching for the shower gel and squeezing some into the palm of his hand. He carefully lathered it and began to smooth it over Thranduil’s shoulders, down his arms, slowly, tracing every contour; after a moment Thranduil began to do the same for him, and he closed his eyes for a moment, drinking in the sensations, the warm water, Thranduil’s hands upon his skin, his sculpted chest under Bard’s fingers, both of them gradually moving lower, lower, and Bard caught his breath. 

“I think we certainly have enough time for this,” said Thranduil, letting his fingers skitter lower across the base of Bard’s stomach, tracing the outline of one hipbone and then the other, and then taking him in hand, stroking firmly; Bard gasped, resting his forehead on Thranduil’s shoulder, gripping his arms for a moment, and then sending one hand down to wrap his fingers around Thranduil’s arousal, stroking from base to tip, smoothing his thumb over the head and then back down again.

Thranduil let out a long, low moan, dipping his head to bite very softly at the base of Bard’s neck, darting his tongue out and biting again, sucking gently. Bard almost whimpered, shifting a little to trace Thranduil’s collarbone with the tip of his tongue.

“Go easy,” he said after a moment, as a thought occurred to him. “We’ll never hear the end of it from the kids if we’re covered in love-bites when they get back.”

“Good point,” said Thranduil, a laugh in his voice. “All right, no marking. “But I don’t think you’ll mind if I do this?” and he began to stroke a little faster, a little firmer, and after a moment Bard matched his pace, a little faster, a little more, until they were both gasping, frantic and desperate.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Bard whispered, “so close, _so close_ ,” and Thranduil slid his other hand up Bard’s back to cradle the back of his head, pulling him in for a hard, searing kiss. 

“Me too,” Thranduil half-gasped, “just a little…more, _oh_!” He tensed in Bard’s arms and then let go with a long, shuddering cry, and it was only a moment before Bard followed him, crying out and gasping for breath. 

“Oh,” he said, when he had regained himself a little, “ _fuck_ , you’re amazing. I don’t think I can stay standing up.”

“Come here,” said Thranduil, leaning back against the marble-tiled wall and nudging Bard to lean against him. “I have you safe. And you are - I haven’t the words. I am _very_ happy to have you here.”

Bard sighed contentedly, tilting his head up to press a kiss to Thranduil’s mouth. “Very happy to be here,” he said. “Wish we didn’t have to move.”

“We probably have a few minutes before we have to make ourselves presentable,” said Thranduil. “But we probably can’t afford to get distracted again.”

Bard chuckled. “Probably not. Shame, but what can you do?”

“Not very much, when there are children involved,” said Thranduil, reaching for the shower gel again and smoothing some carefully down Bard’s back, manoeuvring him gently back under the water. “But they are charming, so I suppose we can forgive them.”

“I suppose,” said Bard with a smile, and they managed to finish washing without any further distractions, drying off with a couple of the enormously soft, fluffy towels that were draped over the heated towel rail (untold luxury, thought Bard, who was usually lucky if he could find a dry towel in a house with two teenagers and a ten-year-old) and padding back through to the bedroom to get dressed. 

“We have about half an hour, I think,” Thranduil said, as Bard’s phone buzzed; when he checked the screen, he saw that it was a message from Sigrid. 

_Leaving town now, Da, should be with you in about 25 minutes, see you soon!_

“Twenty-five minutes, according to Sigrid,” he said, and Thranduil smiled. 

“Very considerate of her to give us a warning,” he said, and Bard groaned.

“Don’t. I’m pretending it won’t have occurred to any of them what we’ll likely have been doing.”

Thranduil chuckled. “So am I. Come on, let’s go and get some dinner, and then we can at least pretend to have been sitting downstairs like two very boring grown-ups all evening.”

“Good plan,” said Bard, and they left the room hand-in-hand, heading down the enormous staircase.

“I am very much looking forward to trying out your idea about the stairs,” said Thranduil as they descended, that seductive purr in his voice again, and Bard felt himself blushing. 

“I think your ancestors will disapprove,” he said, gesturing at the portraits on the walls, and Thranduil laughed out loud. 

“I don’t care,” he said. “This is my house now, and I will do what I like in it, up to and including letting you have your way with me on the stairs, and there is nothing they can do about it.”

“Fair enough,” said Bard, and then he had to make himself stop thinking about it. They had no time now - but he really rather hoped they would be able to make some time before too long.

In the kitchen, Thranduil busied himself taking things out of the fridge, and Bard leaned against the cabinets watching him for a moment.

“How does pasta carbonara sound?” asked Thranduil, and Bard smiled.

“Sounds perfect,” he said. “Do you want a hand?”

“No, don’t worry,” said Thranduil. “It’s really very simple, it won’t take me more than a few minutes. Make yourself comfortable. Do you want a glass of wine?” He reached into the fridge and brought out a bottle of white wine and Bard nodded.

“Please,” he said. “I haven’t had a drink since I saw you last, and I haven’t had anything as nice as what we had over Christmas…probably ever.”

Thranduil smiled. “I suppose I am a little bit of a wine buff. It’s my father’s fault, he was something of a collector. I’ll never work my way through his collection, so I don’t know why I buy more - but I’m very glad I did.” He smiled, and Bard crossed the kitchen to kiss him. 

“I’m glad you did too,” he said; he had been the one to deliver Thranduil’s wine orders all autumn, and it had only transpired at Christmas that there had been so many of them because Thranduil had seen Bard from the windows and had been compelled to keep placing orders until he had the opportunity to speak to him.

“We should probably make it a little more worth your while by drinking this,” Thranduil said, “it’s one of the bottles you brought me.”

“Well, I’m not going to complain about getting to actually sample some of it,” Bard grinned. “I mean, I’m already reaping the benefits of your wine-ordering habit, but I’m happy to take another one.”

“Precisely,” said Thranduil, fetching a couple of glasses from a cabinet and a corkscrew from a drawer; he opened the wine and filled both glasses, and passed one to Bard, clinking them gently together. “Here’s to occasionally having the house to ourselves,” he said, and Bard chuckled.

“I’ll drink to that,” he said, and did so. 

“Now, sit yourself down,” said Thranduil, “and let me make you dinner. The children will be home before too long.”

Bard sat obediently at the table and watched Thranduil as he cooked; he seemed completely in his element in the kitchen , and Bard thought his heart was as full as it could possibly get.

They were just beginning to eat when the outer door to the boot room banged open, and the children’s voices came floating through in a flurry of excited noise, the door banging shut, footsteps and laughter. Bard and Thranduil exchanged a glance and a smile, and Bard decided to risk leaning forward and brushing a very brief kiss over Thranduil’s mouth, just before the boot room door flew open and the children came crowding into the kitchen. This could work, it would work, it /had/ to work. It was so close to being perfect, it was worth working for, it was worth…everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying the story, do feel free to leave a comment and let me know - long or short or a single emoji, every single one absolutely makes my day. :)
> 
> I am [nocompromise-noregrets](https://nocompromise-noregrets.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr, by the way, so if any of you would like to come and find me there I would love to see you.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids rename their group chat, and move on to the next phase of their big Operation. And Sigrid and Tauriel share a moment of calm among the chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we meet the kids properly! I was planning to have them chime in via the group chat again, as they did in It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like..., but then Sigrid piped up and I realised that this time, we are going to have a little bit of her perspective here and there. :D Although I am sure the group chat will be back. :D

Sigrid smiled to herself, revelling for a moment in her own private moment of calm in the middle of the chaos that was Pizza Hut with four rowdy boys, her little sister - and Tauriel, who was the source of the calm, her fingers laced with Sigrid’s under the table. Fíli and Bain were arguing about some football match or other, Tilda was explaining to Legolas some complicated story from the book she was reading at the moment, Kíli chiming in here and there to add his own ideas, and in general more talking was happening than eating.

Not that Sigrid minded particularly. It was just nice to be out with everyone, especially with Tauriel, before she had to go back to school. This would be the last time they would see each other until Easter, and Sigrid wanted to make the most of it.

It was also the first chance they had had to meet up, all together, since before Christmas, and they were technically celebrating the overwhelming success of their scheme to get Sigrid’s Da and Tauriel and Legolas’ Papa to see that they liked each other. All right, they hadn’t seen each other since, but part of Sigrid’s reasoning for organising this trip to the cinema, with pizza for everyone afterwards, was to give the two of them a little time completely on their own, without all the kids running around, to - well, Sigrid hoped that they would talk a bit, because she was fairly sure her Da was still panicking about the whole he’s-got-a-title-and-a-huge-house-and-he’s-probably-a-millionaire thing. She was resolutely not thinking about anything else they might be doing, no thank you. But she really hoped that they were talking things over.

“Oh hey,” said Fíli suddenly, cutting through the noisy discussions and Sigrid’s carefully-constructed calm, “we need to rename the group chat! Seeing as your dads aren’t oblivious any more and probably don’t still need an operation to sort them out.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that just yet,” said Sigrid. “They’ve still got a lot of stuff to work out.”

“Well, yeah, I guess,” said Fíli. “But they know they like each other, right? Did they actually get together?”

Sigrid glanced at Tauriel, and then at Legolas; both of them nodded. “We think so,” she said. “They haven’t actually said as much, but - well.”

“Papa’s been moping ever since you lot went home,” said Legolas. “He’s been pretending he isn’t, but he totally is.”

“And Da’s been so busy he hasn’t had time to see him,” said Sigrid.

“ _We’ve_ barely even seen him,” put in Bain around a mouthful of pizza. “Da’s working hours suck.”

“There’s not much we can do about that,” said Sigrid, wanting to shut down that avenue of conversation; she was not sure how much Bain understood about their situation, and Tilda, bless her, had more or less taken it on board and never asked any questions, but she herself was well aware of her Da’s frustration and the scarcity of jobs that were suitable for his skills _and_ local, so they didn’t have to move. There had to be a solution somewhere, she knew, but she couldn’t see one, and she knew her Da couldn’t either.

“But I think they want to be together,” said Tauriel, “even if they haven’t quite figured out how to make it work yet.”

“Are they going to need help with that?” Kíli wanted to know, and Sigrid and her siblings exchanged a glance with Legolas and Tauriel; after a moment they all nodded.

“Almost certainly,” said Legolas.

“Then they still need an operation,” said Kíli, grinning. “How about Operation Objectively Hot Dads?”

Everyone groaned except Tilda, who only looked confused. “Will you shut up about our Das being hot?” demanded Bain, and Kíli held up his hands in defence.

“Hey, don’t blame me, it was you lot who said it,” he protested, and Sigrid and Legolas, who had been the sources of the entirely objective assessments of each other’s fathers, rolled their eyes at each other.

“You’re the one who keeps going on about it, though,” Legolas pointed out, and Kíli looked at him, blushed scarlet and reached for a slice of pizza, putting it on his plate and staring at it as if he hoped it contained the answers to life, the universe and everything.

“What’s our aim here, though?” asked Tauriel. “Because maybe we should name it after that.”

“We want our Das to get together and stop being idiots about each other,” said Bain, and then Tilda piped up.

“I want Da to be happy and not busy all the time,” she said. “Your Da’s nice, and he made Da smile all the time when we were at your house.”

“Agreed,” said Legolas, smiling at Tilda. “I would like for Papa not to be so alone. And I kind of like the idea of having more siblings.”

“What are siblings?” Tilda wanted to know, and Legolas gestured round at the rest of them.

“It’s a short way of saying brothers and sisters,” he said. “So Bain and Sigrid are your siblings.”

“Oh,” said Tilda. “Well, I’d like you as brothers and sisters.”

“The feeling is definitely mutual,” said Legolas, “which means that I agree with you.”

Tilda beamed at him, and Sigrid couldn’t help a smile, seeing her little sister so happy. She was a sunny-natured little girl, but she had not really been herself for a long time, and Legolas seemed to bring that out in her again. 

“Mutual over here too,” she said, squeezing Tauriel’s hand under the table. “So if that’s what we’re going for - getting them together properly, permanently -?”

“Go big or go home,” said Bain, and Fíli high-fived him across the table. 

“Exactly,” he said. “Do it properly or no point doing it at all, am I right?”

“Totally,” said Kíli. “So if it’s not Operation Objectively Hot Dads, then what?”

“If we’re really after getting them together properly, permanently,” said Tauriel thoughtfully, smoothing her thumb over the back of Sigrid’s hand, “what about Operation Greenwood-Bowman? Or Bowman-Greenwood, I’m not fussy.”

“I like the sound of that,” said Sigrid. “I think they both deserve someone to make them happy, permanently.”

“Operation Bowman-Greenwood it is, then,” said Legolas, pulling out his phone and tapping at the screen. “There. Done.”

“Because we all know they’re going to need a lot more encouragement,” said Tauriel, and Sigrid sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Especially Da,” she said. “He’s still freaking out, I know he is. He’ll be able to put it aside for a bit, and then he’ll get hung up again on how crappy his job is and how poor we are. And I know he won’t take any help from your Da, even though he could probably solve all our problems just like that.” She pulled a face. “To be honest, I don’t blame him, it’d be weird, especially this early on.”

“And if it was up to Papa, he’d be moving you all in tomorrow,” said Legolas. “He’s good at that. He’ll see someone who needs helping, and he’ll just help them, he won’t even think about it. Although he’s done it a lot less since Mama died.”

“He did it for me,” said Tauriel quietly, “when he didn’t have to. I don’t know where I’d be now if it weren’t for him and Mama.”

“And now I think he’s dying to do it for the four of you,” said Legolas. “I know they don’t know each other very well yet, but they can get to know each other. And then maybe later, when it’s not so new, your dad might feel better about letting him help out.”

“We’ll see,” said Sigrid; privately she wasn’t convinced, and she had a horrible feeling that unless they were very careful, her Da was going to let the whole issue come between the two of them and ruin everything.

Later, when they were walking back to the car park where Legolas had parked his scruffy, ancient Land Rover, Tilda slipped her hand into Sigrid’s free hand - she was hand-in-hand with Tauriel on the other side - and tugged gently to get her attention.

“What’s up?” Sigrid asked, and Tilda pulled her curious face.

“What does ob-jec-tive-ly hot mean?” she asked, and Sigrid groaned, catching Tauriel’s eye and laughing. She had been hoping Tilda hadn’t noticed that bit, but of course she had.

“Well. It means that someone is very nice to look at, but not because you think so, but because anyone who looked at them would think so,” she said, floundering a little, and Tauriel stepped in.

“So Legolas said it about your Da,” she said, “because he’s very handsome, like a film star.”

“And I said it about their Da, because he looks like a fashion model or something,” said Sigrid, a blush rising up her face; she couldn’t quite look Tauriel in the eye. “It doesn’t mean I like him like that, of course I don’t, he’s a grown-up,” _and my girlfriend’s Da, and a man_ , she added silently, “just that he’s very nice to look at.”

“Oh,” said Tilda. “Well, your Da is very pretty,” she said to Tauriel, a beaming smile making its way across her face, “and he’s got lovely hair.” She giggled. “You all have, actually. It’s all long and straight and silky. Not like mine.”

“I think your hair is very nice, Tilda,” said Tauriel, reaching out to tweak the end of one of Tilda’s pigtails. “It’s curly and lively. Mine just sits there, getting tangled.”

Tilda protested about how lovely Tauriel’s hair was, but Sigrid wasn’t really listening; instead she was smiling to herself, because she knew that hidden in Tauriel’s compliment to Tilda was one for her own hair. On the rare occasions that they were able to sit quietly together, letting the world go on around them, Tauriel would unwind Sigrid’s plait and sift her fingers through the long, unruly curls, and Sigrid would find herself twining the ends of Tauriel’s long red hair around her own fingers, weaving tiny plaits and twists into it.

It had been six months now that they had been together, although they had only been able to see each other during the school holidays when Tauriel was home, at the riding school and in town, snatched little moments here and there. Christmas had been a treat, to be able to spend almost two whole days together, although they had been surrounded by their respective families all the time. They had done no more than kiss, here and there, hold hands, play with each other’s hair, but Sigrid thought that was enough for her, at least for the time being. Who knew how things might develop, but for now she was almost deliriously happy. 

The only thing to spoil it was that after tomorrow she would not see Tauriel again until Easter. The autumn term had been bad enough, but now, after they had been able to spend more time together, Sigrid found she was dreading the long wait until the spring. They would keep in touch online, but it was not the same.

But she wasn’t going to mope now. They still had the rest of the evening, and tomorrow, and she was going to make the most of it.

They came to the Land Rover, and saw Fíli and Kíli off with hugs and jokes and promises to keep in touch on the group chat. Sigrid would see them at the riding school on Saturday - but Tauriel would not be there.

She gave herself a mental shake and pulled out her phone to send her Da a text to let him know they were on their way. Probably best to warn them, she thought, although she was not thinking about why she thought that.

Then they all piled into the Land Rover, Tilda up front and Bain, Tauriel and Sigrid on the bench seats in the back, and giggled at Legolas trying to start the engine. 

“Come on, Alice,” he pleaded, fiddling with the choke and the ignition, “what’s the matter _now_? Come on, come _on_ , ah, there! Got you!” as the engine sputtered into life and then roared as he stamped on the accelerator. “Right,” he said triumphantly, crashing it into gear, “come on, Alice, take us home!”

And off they went, shaken to and fro on the bench seats by the Land Rover’s terrible suspension, although Sigrid did not mind it too much when a speed bump sent her crashing into Tauriel and Tauriel slipped an arm around her shoulders to hold her steady. She saw Bain looking, but she didn’t care.

When they got back to Greenwood Hall, they all piled out of the Land Rover, Bain and Tilda and Legolas all talking at once as they made their way across the stable yard and through the kitchen garden, Sigrid and Tauriel following quietly behind, hand-in-hand again. Legolas opened the boot room door and ushered Bain and Tilda inside, turning to wink at Sigrid and Tauriel, and then stepping inside, leaving the door open. 

They only had a moment, but it was enough, Sigrid thought, a moment completely alone to wrap her arms around Tauriel and tilt her face up for a kiss, Tauriel’s lips ever so soft against her own, Tauriel’s tongue darting against hers…and then there was a discreet cough from the doorway and they pulled apart again, and Sigrid felt a smile spread across her face, completely unstoppable, undeniable, irrepressible.

“Come on, you two,” said Legolas, a laugh in his voice, “quick, or Papa and Sigrid’s Da are going to wonder why there are only three of us.”

“We’re right behind you,” said Tauriel, and she grabbed Sigrid’s hand and tugged her towards the door.

Everyone scrambled to take their shoes and coats off and put their slippers on, and then they made for the kitchen door; their fathers were sitting at the long table eating dinner, although Sigrid had the distinct impression her Da had just been sitting back down when the door opened, that he had been leaning over to Tauriel’s Da, and they both looked the tiniest bit flustered. She hoped they would not notice the matching flushes on her and Tauriel’s cheeks, the smiles they could not quite suppress; but on the other hand, she thought that maybe they had already worked it out. Maybe they wouldn’t mind. She hoped they wouldn’t.

Besides, they looked so happy together. Sigrid really, really hoped they could work something out. Her Da had been alone for so long, and Tauriel and Legolas’ Da even longer. They deserved to be happy, and Sigrid only hoped her Da could bear to set aside his worries enough that they wouldn’t get in the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alice the Land Rover is real, by the way, or she was - a friend of mine when I was in my late teens had a Landie called Alice, as in 'Alice, what's the matter _now_?' (inspired by the Terrorvision song 'Alice What's The Matter?') :D It's been a very long time, but given how resilient Landies are, I wouldn't be surprised if she was still roaring round the lanes of East Anglia somewhere. In any case, I couldn't resist borrowing her here. 
> 
> Oh, and there's a possible potential additional experimental pairing in here among the older kids, as well as Sigrid and Tauriel. I don't know how it's going to pan out yet, but we shall see. :D :D :D
> 
> And - _and_ \- I've been writing every day this month and as of today (26 January 2021) I have written more this month than I did in the whole of November, when I was doing NaNoWriMo (well, I was writing fic, but still). I don't know where it's all coming from but I'm not complaining! I'm also down to four WIPs from six, so I think I'm doing all right. :D
> 
> Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying the story, do feel free to leave a comment and let me know - long or short or a single emoji, every single one absolutely makes my day. :)
> 
> I am [nocompromise-noregrets](https://nocompromise-noregrets.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr, by the way, so if any of you would like to come and find me there I would love to see you.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The children return home, and Bard and Thranduil establish a couple of things.

Thranduil smiled against the brief brush of Bard’s lips, his eyes fluttering closed for a second as he listened to the children clattering about in the boot room; it sounded as though all of them were talking at once. And then Bard pulled away and the kitchen door opened, almost in the same moment, and the children spilled into the room.

“How was the film?” he asked them, sending them a serene smile and hoping that none of them noticed his slight blush, the warmth he could feel across his cheekbones. 

“All right,” said Bain, and Tilda giggled and ran to her father for a hug. 

“It was really funny,” she said. “And exciting. And everything worked out all right in the end.”

“Well, that sounds pretty good,” said Bard. “And how was the pizza?”

“Amazing,” said Bain. “Fíli and Kíli are loads of fun.”

“They’re nice,” said Tilda. “And funny.”

“They are that,” said Legolas. “I hadn’t met them all that much before, but they’re a proper double-act.”

“Never a dull moment at the riding school with them around,” said Sigrid with a smile, and Tauriel chimed in, also smiling.

“If there are any shenanigans going on, you know those two are behind them,” she said, and Thranduil did not think the delighted smiles on both girls’ faces had anything much to do with their friends. He thought he should probably have a quiet word with Tauriel before he took her and her brother back to school in a few days’ time, just to make sure that everything was all right and the two of them knew what they were doing. But Sigrid was a nice girl, very grown-up and as considerate as her father, and he did not think there would be any issues.

“What do you want to do for the rest of the evening?” he asked. “I suppose you will all want to go upstairs and play computer games.” He was smiling as he said it; he did not mind at all.

The older children exchanged a glance, and then Legolas shook his head. “We thought it might be nice to all sit together, at least until Tilda’s bedtime,” he said, and Tilda beamed across at him from where she was leaning on Bard, her arms around his neck. 

“Maybe we could put a film on in the living room, or something,” said Tauriel. “Something we’ll all enjoy. We’ve only got a couple of days left before we have to go back to school, we want to make the most of them.”

“Of course,” Thranduil said. “Do you want to go on ahead and choose a film, and Bard and I will join you when we have finished eating? We won’t be more than a few minutes.”

“All right,” said Legolas. “Come on, comrades, let’s go pick something awesome.” He headed for the door, gesturing to the others to follow him, and Tilda ran to catch him up, followed by Bain, with Tauriel and Sigrid bringing up the rear; Thranduil saw them reach for each other’s hands just as they disappeared into the corridor, and he could not hide his smile. 

“Comrades?” said Bard, and Thranduil laughed.

“Who knows. He has been studying political history just recently, so perhaps he is harbouring communist sympathies.”

“He’s going to have a bit of trouble with that,” said Bard, gesturing around them and looking thoroughly amused. “Unless he’s planning on opening this place up to all comers when he gets his hands on it.”

“Maybe he should,” said Thranduil. “Nobody should have as much as this, especially in times like these, when so many people have so little.” He sighed, hoping that Bard had not taken that the wrong way. “I have been doing my best to give financial support to local organisations, especially those who look after homeless people, but I haven’t yet worked out what to do with the rest of the house.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” said Bard. “It’s still your home.”

“I suppose so,” said Thranduil, “but when it’s just me, rattling around in here on my own, I can’t help feeling it’s wasted.”

Bard reached out and covered Thranduil’s hand with his own. “Hey, you don’t have to be on your own when the kids go back to school. We can come and see you, remember? I mean, I don’t have much time, but I’m sure my lot would be delighted to come and run you ragged any time you’re feeling this place is too quiet.”

Thranduil could not help smiling, turning his hand over and lacing his fingers with Bard’s. “I would love that,” he said. “And if it is helpful to you that I look after the children sometimes, I would be delighted to do it.”

“I think they’d be thrilled,” said Bard. “Even if your two aren’t here, you can bet Bain and Tilda would love to run around the garden, and you could probably lose Sigrid in the library for a week or two.” He paused. “If you don’t mind,” he added, and Thranduil squeezed his hand.

“Of course I don’t mind. As I said, I would be delighted, and you would be doing me a favour. Having your children here would be a wonderful distraction from how much I miss my own when they are away at school. Besides, you will have to come and collect them, won’t you?” He raised his eyebrow and smiled.

“Good point,” Bard grinned. “But - don’t let them take advantage. Or me. I don’t want to use you as unpaid childcare.”

“That’s not what it will be,” said Thranduil firmly. “In any case, I think I should get to know the children better, before I can help you with them. Perhaps you might all like to spend a weekend or two here in the next few weeks.”

Bard thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. “I’d like that. I have to work Saturdays, and Sigrid is at the riding school then, but we could come over once we’re both done.”

“Well, then. Perhaps next weekend? I know it’s soon, but Legolas and Tauriel will just have gone back to school and I will be missing them very much.” He paused, and smiled. “And I don’t think I’ll be the only one needing a distraction from missing Tauriel.”

Bard chuckled. “I don’t think you will. There’s definitely something going on there, isn’t there?”

“You don’t mind?” Thranduil asked. 

Bard shook his head. “Not at all. Tauriel’s a nice girl, and I think they’re good for each other, if how happy Sigrid’s been over the last few weeks is anything to go by. I’m just a little worried about how she’s going to be once Tauriel’s back at school.” He sighed. “She’s got her exams this summer, and mocks in a few weeks, I don’t want her distracted from that.”

“If she is moping, then we can all cheer her up,” said Thranduil. “I agree with you, I think they are very good for each other. Tauriel has always been very quiet, very withdrawn. Sigrid has brought her out of herself, and she has been so happy over these holidays. I am only hoping that she is not too depressed when she is back at school.”

“Can Legolas keep an eye on her? Are they at the same school?” Bard asked, and Thranduil nodded.

“They are, but they have very little opportunity to see each other. They are in different years, so they have no lessons together, and aside from breaks - when they socialise with their own friends - their free time is spent in their houses, which are of course kept separate, boys in one and girls in another. But I think he knows, and I think he will do his best. He has always looked out for her, since before she came to live with us.”

“He seems very considerate,” said Bard. “He’s putting up with Tilda mooning after him all the time, she thinks he’s wonderful.”

Thranduil chuckled. “I think he thinks she is charming. I certainly do.”

“She’s a good girl,” said Bard, an affectionate smile warming his face. “She’s been through a lot - they all have, but she was so young when Katy died. It took her a while to understand. And since I lost my job they’ve all taken it in their stride - but Bain and Sigrid are old enough to know what it means. Tilda’s just accepted it. She’s a little ray of sunshine.”

“I can see that,” said Thranduil. “And it would be my very great honour to get to know all three of them better.”

“We’d better finish eating and get through there, then, hadn’t we?” said Bard, and Thranduil laughed. 

“And find out what they have chosen to watch. Hopefully the boys have managed to pick something that will be suitable for Tilda.”

“If I have to put my foot down I will,” said Bard, grinning.

“I don’t think you’ll have to,” said Thranduil. “Legolas and Tauriel are both considerate, and Sigrid too. They will make sure it is something they can all enjoy.”

“Fingers crossed,” said Bard, and they finished eating. Thranduil topped their wine glasses up with the bottle from the fridge, and set the dishes in the dishwasher, and then held a hand out to Bard. 

“Come on,” he said, “let’s go and see what the children have chosen. I’ll bring the wine, there’s a fridge in the drinks cabinet.”

Bard laughed. “Why am I not surprised?” he said, letting Thranduil lead him along the corridor towards the living room, and the sound of stirring music and excited voices with American accents.

The film turned out to be an adventure about a computer game that had somehow become real, and the children were all enthralled by it. Tauriel and Sigrid were curled together on one of the sofas, Legolas had Tilda held carefully in his lap in an armchair, and Bain was sprawled on his stomach on the hearthrug, his head propped up on his hands at a very uncomfortable-looking angle. There were two armchairs left - and a sofa. 

Thranduil let Bard’s hand go so that he could put the wine bottle in the small fridge in the bottom of the drinks cabinet, and when he turned around, he saw that Bard had settled himself on the sofa, at one end, leaving plenty of room for Thranduil to join him. Well, it would be rude not to, Thranduil thought to himself, thoroughly amused, and he went and sat down next to Bard, just close enough to touch but not too close, conscious of the children. 

That lasted about five minutes, until Sigrid glanced across at them, rolled her eyes, and leaned forward. 

“If you’re worried about us, don’t be,” she said. “We know you’re together, and it’s fine. So…you know. If you want to be a tiny bit less prim and proper, you absolutely can.” She flashed them a grin and sat back into the curve of Tauriel’s arm, and Thranduil looked at Bard, a little disconcerted.

“I’m game if you are,” said Bard after a moment, smiling warmly and stretching his arm along the back of the sofa, and Thranduil nodded. 

“Very much so,” he said, and he shifted a little closer, resting his head against Bard’s and sighing softly as Bard settled his arm around his shoulders. “This is nice,” he murmured, and Bard hummed softly. 

“It is,” he said very quietly. “Let’s do this again soon.”

Thranduil smiled contentedly. “Next weekend. I insist. You will bring the children, and we will have dinner and watch a film, and distract ourselves from missing the two who will not be here.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Bard.

Thranduil took advantage of all the children being absorbed in the film to turn his head and press a soft, brief kiss to Bard’s temple; he did not dare risk more, for there were some things he did wish to keep private from the children, but this - this was enough, for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying the story, do feel free to leave a comment and let me know - long or short or a single emoji, every single one absolutely makes my day. :)
> 
> I am [nocompromise-noregrets](https://nocompromise-noregrets.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr, by the way, so if any of you would like to come and find me there I would love to see you.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard has an important conversation with Tilda...and a bit of an angst fit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers of [My Heart Is An Empty Vessel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26197213) will be familiar with the concept of the Tilda Warning, used to cover chapters containing Tilda's weapons-grade cuteness. Suffice to say, there is a Tilda Warning on this chapter. :D

The film was actually quite entertaining, Bard thought; the children laughed and whooped at the exciting stuff, especially Bain and Tilda, and Legolas, Tauriel and Sigrid enjoyed pointing out where it was making references to a previous version of the story. Bard remembered it vaguely; he thought he might have caught it on TV once or twice. But this was fun; it was nice to see all the kids interacting and getting on well with each other. He caught himself hoping that this meant they might all become one family pretty easily. 

Was he getting ahead of himself? He didn’t think so, or at least he hoped he wasn’t. It would be complicated, of course it would, to bring their two families together, to build a relationship that provided stability for all the children and allowed himself and Thranduil to be equals. He had no idea how they were going to manage that last part; for all that Thranduil had said that his money did not matter, and that Bard would bring just as much to the relationship by easing Thranduil’s loneliness, Bard could not bring himself to believe it. And if he could hardly spare any time to spend with Thranduil, how could they build any sort of relationship at all?

He must have sighed or something, because Thranduil shifted a little next to him, turning to rest his forehead against Bard’s temple, and then brushing a kiss across his cheekbone. 

“Are you all right?” he whispered into Bard’s ear, and Bard sighed (again?). 

“This is wonderful,” he said quietly, truthfully, “but I can’t see how we can - if I can only ever see you on Saturday evenings and Sundays, how can we ever - how can this,” he made a small gesture to himself and then to Thranduil, “how can it work?”

“We will find a way,” Thranduil whispered, bringing one hand up to stroke Bard’s hair; Bard could not help leaning into the touch, closing his eyes. “We can talk about it later, if you want.”

“I think we need to,” said Bard. “I’m sorry…I can’t see a way through it all.”

“We’ll find one,” said Thranduil. “I promise. But for now - try not to think about it?” He kissed Bard’s cheekbone again, then his temple, and then settled back down, curling a little closer against him and resting his arm across Bard’s chest, curling his hand round Bard’s upper arm. 

Bard sighed again, resting his cheek against Thranduil’s hair and turning his attention back to the film as best he could. He wanted so desperately to make this work, but as with a great many other things he wanted, he could not see a way of making it a reality.

When the film finished, it was almost nine, and definitely Tilda’s bedtime. She was already yawning in Legolas’ lap, and didn’t put up much protest when Bard gently extricated himself from Thranduil’s arms and went over to pull her carefully to her feet.

“Come on, kitten. Bed,” he said, and Tilda yawned again.

“All right, Da,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“We’ve put Sigrid and Tilda in the same room as last time,” said Tauriel. “Second on the right after the corner.”

“Thank you,” said Bard. “Do you want to go up on your own, kitten, or shall I come with you?”

“Come with me,” said Tilda in a small voice, and Bard smiled, holding his hand out for her to take.

“All right then,” he said. “Back in a few minutes.”

Thranduil and the others wished Tilda a good night, and she waved at them, though then she had to stop waving and cover a wide yawn, and Bard gently tugged on her hand.

“Come on, kitten,” he said as they went out into the hall. “Do you need a carry?”

Tilda shook her head. “I’m not a baby, Da,” she said, although the edge was taken off her indignation by how sleepy she was.

Bard laughed. “That’s me told. All right then, you can walk.”

“It’s a long way,” said Tilda as they began to make their way slowly up the stairs. “Further than the end of the street at home.”

“I suppose it is, kitten,” said Bard, feeling rather glad of a distraction that would ensure he wouldn’t think about what he had been thinking about last time he’d been on these stairs, earlier on. 

“And the stairs are _huge_ ,” Tilda went on, “like in Cinderella or something, when she comes down the stairs in the big dress and there are lots of people having a party.”

Bard chuckled. “You do know there’s a ballroom here, don’t you?” he said, and Tilda nodded, her eyes wide.

“Tauriel and Legolas showed us at Christmas. It’s _huge_. Bigger than the gym at school!”

“I don’t think you’d be putting wall-bars up in there, or having five-a-side football matches, though, would you?”

Tilda giggled and squeezed his hand. “No. I’d be scared of breaking the mirrors and all the fancy curly bits on the walls. But a nice party with big dresses and dancing. That’s what it’s for.”

“I don’t suppose they have many of those these days,” Bard said; he knew that Thranduil had not thrown a party in there in twenty years or so, if the last had been his and Anna’s wedding reception, but he wasn’t going to say as much to Tilda. 

“No,” said Tilda. “I don’t suppose they do. It’s very quiet here. Even with all of us.” She sighed. “I suppose it’s so big, it just swallows everything up.”

“It’ll be quieter still, the next time we’re here,” said Bard, and Tilda sighed again.

“I know. Tauriel and Legolas are going back to school. Their Da’s going to be awfully lonely on his own. And I’m going to miss them too.”

“Especially Legolas?” Bard teased, but Tilda looked up at him completely seriously.

“He’s really nice. He doesn’t treat me like a nuisance, you know how some of Bain’s friends do, just because I’m little, and a girl. He’s really good at being a big brother.”

“I suppose he is,” said Bard; he couldn’t argue with that. 

“Tauriel’s a good big sister too,” said Tilda after a moment. “And she likes Sigrid a lot.”

Bard blinked; he had not quite expected his youngest to have noticed that, and he wasn’t quite sure what to say. “I think they like each other a lot, kitten,” he said after a moment, and Tilda nodded.

“I think so. It’s nice. And I like their Da too. _He’s_ nice, and you smile lots more when we’re here. I think we should come here more often.”

Bard blinked again, trying not to gape at her. All right, he hadn’t been entirely upfront with the kids about himself and Thranduil, although the older ones had clearly worked out that something was going on. He’d been planning on having a conversation with all three of his about it at some point, and especially with Tilda, because she was too young to have picked up on the things Sigrid and Bain evidently had. But - well, he hadn’t quite been planning on having that conversation just yet, but Tilda had rather just given him an opening.

They found the room that Sigrid and Tilda had stayed in last time, and Bard smiled to see the girls’ overnight bags sitting by the beds; he wasn’t sure when that had happened, but it was nice to see, somehow. He sat down on the end of Tilda’s bed and patted the mattress next to him; she hopped onto the bed and bounced up and down a couple of times before she settled. 

“I take it this is a nice bed to sleep in?” he said, and Tilda grinned.

“It’s very comfy. I thought it might not be because I thought it was going to be old, but it isn’t old at all.”

“It isn’t, is it?” mused Bard, glancing at Sigrid’s bed and then Tilda’s; they were both sturdy and good quality, wooden-framed, and the mattress of Tilda’s certainly felt new or nearly so. Clearly Thranduil had furnished the rooms that were likely to see some use with decent modern things. “I’m glad you like it here,” he ventured, and Tilda smiled widely, leaning her head on his arm. 

“I really like it. It’s funny, because it’s big and everything’s so old - well, almost everything, but it’s nice too. Even though lots of it is empty, the bits of it that aren’t feel like a proper home.”

Bard nodded. “So - you wouldn’t mind if we came here a bit more often, even if Tauriel and Legolas aren’t here?”

“I’d love to, Da. There’s so much to look at and the garden is so pretty, even though it’s winter and there isn’t a playground. And their Da is really really nice.”

There it was, Bard thought, there was his opening. Gathering his courage in both hands, he said, “I think he is too, kitten,” and Tilda giggled.

“I know, Da,” she said, with just the faintest hint of the tone of voice that Sigrid used with him when she thought he was stating the obvious. “Like I said, you smile lots more when you’re around him.”

“Okay,” said Bard. “And…that’s all right with you, is it? That we’re…friends?”

“Da,” said Tilda witheringly, “I’m not six. You’re not friends with him like you are with Percy or Hilda, are you? You’re friends with him like you were with Mam, before she was our Mam.”

Bard really did gape at her at that; he had not at all expected her to understand the difference between his friendship (or whatever it was) with Thranduil, and his friendship with Percy and Hilda, the only two of his former colleagues that he had kept in touch with. On the other hand, he thought, he had just been sitting on the sofa with his arm around Thranduil, and in most of the pictures of himself and Katy that they had up around the house, he had his arm around her, and was looking at her - probably in a similar way to how he’d been looking at Thranduil.

“Okay,” he said after a moment, when he’d regained the power of speech, “you got me. Yes, we’re friends like I was with your Mam, or at least, I hope we are. And…is that all right with you?”

“Course it is,” said Tilda airily. “He’s nice. And very pretty. And you’re happier than we’ve seen you in ages and ages. So of course it’s all right. Especially if that means we get to have Tauriel and Legolas as brothers and sisters.”

“Steady on, kitten,” said Bard. “It’s early days yet. We’re still figuring out if it’ll work. Our lives are very different. It’s not like your story books and films in real life, you know.”

“I know,” said Tilda. “But it would be nice if we did.”

“No pressure,” said Bard with a rueful chuckle; they really were going to have to figure it out now, because he wasn’t sure he could bear to break his youngest’s heart if it didn’t all go according to plan. 

“It’ll be fine, Da,” said Tilda, patting his knee. “He’s nice and you’re nice and all right, he’s got a big house and we’ve got a little house, but it isn’t what you’ve got that matters, it’s who you are inside.”

“You’ve definitely been watching too many films,” said Bard, but he was smiling, and Tilda giggled and reached up to hug him and plant a kiss on his cheek. 

“It’s true, though,” she said, and then she yawned very widely, and Bard remembered what they were actually doing up here. 

“Come on, you. Bathroom, brush your teeth and get your pyjamas on, and then into bed. Wait, where is the bathroom?”

Tilda rolled her eyes - another habit she’d picked up from Sigrid - and pointed to a door in the corner of the room. “It’s through there. We’ve got our own! Tauriel said all the rooms have got one, her Da put them in so nobody had to get lost at night.”

“Fair enough,” said Bard, thinking there was probably more to it than that, but he wasn’t going to quibble. “Off you go then, and I’ll tuck you in when you’re done.”

Tilda fished her pyjamas and washbag out of her overnight bag, and padded off into the bathroom; the glimpse that Bard caught of it through the door told him that it was smaller than Thranduil’s bathroom, but just as beautifully done, and he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Understated quality seemed to be very much Thranduil’s style.

What _was_ he doing here? He buried his head in his hands for a moment; he was up to his neck in it now, his kids adored Thranduil’s kids, they liked Thranduil, they’d all be upset if it didn’t work out, and Tilda in particular. Sigrid and Tauriel would handle it, it wasn’t as though they’d have to stop seeing each other, and Bain would be all right, but Tilda - and then he brought himself up short. They’d all lost one parent already - all five kids had, and - oh, god, what were they doing, getting this involved, letting the kids get this involved, at such an early stage, when it could all go wrong and they’d end up losing a parental figure _again_. What were they thinking of, risking putting the kids through that again?

The water turned off in the bathroom and Bard pulled himself together; he certainly wasn’t going to let Tilda in on what he was thinking. In a moment she appeared, wearing her favourite Snoopy pyjamas and carrying her clothes in a more-or-less carefully folded pile in her arms. She set the clothes on a chair that was standing at the foot of the bed, and then came to Bard for a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her curls for a moment, getting a grip on himself. He was already in far too deep to put a stop to things now, so he’d just have to make sure it worked out, instead. Even if he had no idea how.

“Right, you,” he said after a moment, letting Tilda go and standing up. “Into bed with you. Do you want the nightlight on?”

Tilda crawled under the covers and curled up on her side. “Yes please. Night night, Da.”

Bard found the switch for the nightlight and turned it on, and then leaned down to kiss Tilda’s forehead. “Night night, kitten. Sleep well.”

“I will,” said Tilda, yawning. “See you in the morning.”

“See you then,” said Bard, ruffling her hair and then making for the door, switching off the overhead light. He waited for a moment, in case Tilda wanted anything else, but she was quiet, her eyes closed, and once he was satisfied that she was settled, he pulled the door to and headed back along the corridor towards the stairs. 

The older kids were just coming up the stairs as he started down them, and he raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re all off to bed too,” he said, and they all laughed. 

“We’re going to play Playstation for a bit, Da,” said Bain. 

“But we’ll all be in bed by ten,” said Sigrid, and Bard raised his eyebrow further.

“Will you, now?” he said, and Sigrid grinned. 

“Course we will. Promise.”

“Mmmm. Might have to come up and make sure,” he said, and Legolas gave him a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, we’ll remember. I’ve set an alarm for five to ten, just in case we get distracted by the game.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” Bard said. “Enjoy yourselves, won’t you?”

“Course we will, Da!” said Bain, and then they were off, scampering up the stairs as he made his way down, a little more slowly. The rest of the evening was his now, to spend with Thranduil on his ludicrously comfortable sofa, with maybe another glass of that particularly excellent wine. He hoped he could let himself just relax and enjoy it, set aside his worries and trust that everything would be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying the story, do feel free to leave a comment and let me know - long or short or a single emoji, every single one absolutely makes my day. :)
> 
> I am [nocompromise-noregrets](https://nocompromise-noregrets.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr, by the way, so if any of you would like to come and find me there I would love to see you.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil has a chat with the older kids, and then talks Bard through another angst fit.

When it was time for Tilda to go to bed, she didn’t want to go up on her own, and Thranduil guessed that she did not want to seem afraid in front of the older children, but was still wary of the unfamiliar house, especially at night. 

“All right, then,” said Bard, gently ushering her out of the room. “Back in a few minutes.”

“Sleep well, Tilda,” said Thranduil, and Tauriel and Legolas echoed him; Tilda waved and gave them a sleepy thank you, and then they were gone.

There was silence for a moment, and Thranduil glanced at each of the children, realising that they were all watching him.

“What?” he asked, one eyebrow slightly raised, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Nothing,” said Legolas, looking as though butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, which was always a sign of trouble.

“We’re just glad you’re happy, Papa,” said Tauriel. “We like Bard, and Sigrid, Bain and Tilda like you. As Sigrid says, we think it’s a good thing that you’re together.”

“Da’s going to be weird about it,” said Sigrid. “Because of…well, you know. Everything. But we want to persuade him not to be.”

“I want that too,” said Thranduil; if they were being straight with him, he had better be straight with them. “I like Bard a lot. I know what worries him. And I hope to be able to reassure him - with time. This is not something that can be worked out overnight, so you will have to be patient.” He smiled a little self-deprecatingly. “As will I. But don’t worry. I have no intention of giving up on this just yet.”

“Good,” said Sigrid. “I mean, it’s sort of none of our business, but at the same time it does affect us, so…it sort of is.”

Thranduil laughed. “Some of it is your business,” he said. “I am sure you don’t want to hear about the rest.”

“No, thank you,” said Sigrid, and the others chorused their disapproval. 

Thranduil laughed again. “Well, then. I’m glad we’ve cleared that up. Do you want to put something else on TV, or would you rather go upstairs and play computer games now?”

The four of them looked at each other, and Thranduil did not miss the way Bain’s eyes lit up at the mention of computer games, nor the way Tauriel and Sigrid glanced at each other.

“We’ll go up and play on the Playstation for a bit, I think, Papa, if you don’t mind,” said Legolas, the expression on his face conveying very clearly that he had seen what Thranduil had on the other children’s faces. 

“That’s fine with me,” said Thranduil. “Although I think you should probably be in bed by ten, all of you.”

“I’ll put an alarm on my phone for five to,” said Legolas. “You know how easy it is to get caught up in those games. If we’re not careful we’ll still be playing at midnight.”

“Definitely set an alarm then,” said Thranduil, biting back his amusement at the look of disappointment on Bain’s face; the boy was too polite to say anything, but it was clear that he had been hoping to be able to stay up later. Well, perhaps he would have another opportunity to play games tomorrow.

“We’ll be off, then,” said Sigrid, nudging Bain’s foot with her toe, and they all got to their feet, Bain hauling himself up off the hearthrug rather awkwardly; he was growing faster than he could keep up with, Thranduil thought, and probably wasn’t used to the length of his limbs. He could remember that feeling very well.

“Enjoy yourselves,” he said, “and sleep well when you get there. I will see you at breakfast. How does nine-thirty sound?”

“Perfect,” said Tauriel. “We’ll see you then, Papa.” She flitted across the room to catch him in a hug and press a kiss to his forehead, and he hugged her back; she had not been in the habit of goodnight kisses for a while now, but perhaps it was the thought of going back to school again. 

“Good night, robin,” he murmured, the childhood nickname coming unbidden to his lips, and she pulled away with a tiny smile. 

“Good night, Papa,” she whispered. “You sleep well, too, when you get there.”

“I will,” he said, squeezing her hand, and then she was gone, following the others out of the door, her hand reaching for Sigrid’s as they went. He closed his eyes for a moment, listening to their voices ascending the stairs, and then Bard’s deep, Welsh-accented tones as they presumably crossed paths. Thranduil hoped that Tilda had settled; it must be strange for the little girl to be somewhere so unfamiliar, even if she had spent a night here before.

A moment or two passed, and Thranduil looked up as he heard Bard’s footsteps crossing the flagstones of the hall floor, his heart suddenly beating harder as Bard appeared in the doorway, looking somehow happy and apprehensive and conflicted all at once, and so very breathtakingly handsome. Thranduil held out a hand to him, and smiled. 

“Come here,” he said, and Bard crossed the room to take his hand, sitting down on the sofa and sinking back into the cushions, closing his eyes for a moment. 

“Tilda approves of us,” he said eventually, and Thranduil’s eyebrows went up, just a little bit; he had not expected the little girl to have picked up on what was going on between them.

“That’s good,” he said. “The others approve too.”

Bard chuckled softly. “I think that surprises me less. I have a feeling they had a lot to do with - well, everything.”

“I do think they engineered circumstances,” said Thranduil. “And I am forever grateful to them for it.”

“Me too,” said Bard, sitting forward and resting his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, fingers twisting into his hair. “Only…only we’re going to have to make this work, between us, now. Because the kids have all lost one parent already. If we get much further into this, we’re giving them a potential new parent-figure, and if we - if it then doesn’t work out, and they lose that…” He trailed off, looking anguished. “I can’t do that to my kids, and I can’t do it to yours.”

Thranduil shifted and sat up a little, and reached out to smooth a lock of hair out of Bard’s eyes. “We will make this work, between us. I want nothing more. And the children are an added incentive to work through our differences and find solutions.”

“I want that too,” said Bard. “I really do. But…I can’t see how. I mean, if I can only see you on Saturday nights and Sundays, how on earth are we going to be able to build a relationship? How can we give the kids the stability they deserve?”

Thranduil placed a hand on Bard’s shoulder, felt the tension there and slid an arm around him, tugging gently until Bard subsided back into his embrace. “Come here,” he said, shifting until he was half-lying against the cushions and the arm of the sofa, and nudged Bard to settle against him, cradling Bard’s head against his chest and sifting his fingers through Bard’s hair. “We will find a way,” he murmured. “Maybe it’ll take longer than it would if we were able to spend every day with each other, but we will work it out.” He laughed softly. “We might not have managed to take certain other things as slowly as we planned, but we will still take this slowly, between us. We must get to know each other properly, there is so much we need to learn about each other.”

Bard sighed. “You’re right. I just…I can’t quite get over…I keep wondering what I’m doing here. This has all gone so fast, I can’t get my head round it.”

Thranduil smoothed his hand up and down Bard’s arm, still carding the fingers of his other hand through his hair. “Did I sweep you off your feet?” he murmured. “You have certainly swept me off mine.”

Bard made a tiny sound, halfway between a sigh and a laugh, and shifted so that he could look up at Thranduil, his brow still tight with worry, his eyes filled with warring feelings. “You did,” he said quietly. “And I don’t quite know what to do about it. I wasn’t expecting…I thought I was going to be on my own for the rest of my life. I couldn’t imagine meeting someone.”

“So did I,” said Thranduil. “You have turned my entire world upside down, and I am suddenly reconsidering all the assumptions I had made about what the future might hold for me. But I can’t regret it. That future was empty and cold and lonely, but it was all I could imagine. And now - here you are, and I would do anything rather than lose you.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” said Bard. “I have _got_ to get a new job.” He rested his head back onto Thranduil’s chest with a sigh. “I can’t - we can’t do this on Saturday nights and Sundays for ever. And that’s all the time I’ve got. Sometimes I don’t even have Sundays.” He sighed again. “And, I mean, I know of loads of couples who don’t earn the same, and they’re all right, but the gap between me and you is…it’s insane. I can’t hope to even begin to contribute. I can barely feed the kids and myself and keep the house going.”

Thranduil shifted a little so that he could press a kiss into Bard’s hair, breathing him in for a moment. “There is a lot more to life - and relationships - than how much money one brings to the table,” he said. “I know it’s important, and I don’t want to - to dismiss your concerns. But there are so many other things that you can bring to this, things you are already bringing. Chief among them that you have already made me happier than I have been for - I don’t know, a decade at least. Usually I dread the children going back to school, because I know I’m going to be alone for months. But this time - I am not looking forward to it, and I know I am going to miss them terribly, but…” he paused, drawing in a breath that was rather more unsteady than he had intended. “But this time I won’t be alone.”

“For Saturday nights and Sundays, maybe,” said Bard. “I can’t tell you how much I want to see you more often, but -“

“Perhaps when the children know me better, they might like to come here after school sometimes, and stay the night,” said Thranduil. “And you can come here when you finish work. Or they can come here on Fridays. I can take Sigrid to the riding school, I am used to doing that for Tauriel anyway, and perhaps Bain and Tilda and I can do something else on the Saturdays while you work.” He sighed. “I’m clutching at straws, but I want so much to spend time with you, and with them.”

“I want that too,” said Bard. “Christ…I want that so much. But everything…everything feels like I’m taking advantage of you and your…of how much you like me. Like I’m only in this for that, and I’m not, I’m _not_.” His voice shook, and Thranduil tightened his arms around him. 

“I know you’re not. Look at me. Look at me,” he repeated, nudging Bard to raise his head so he could look him in the eyes. “I know you’re not taking advantage of me. I know that’s not the reason you’re doing this. If it was, I would not have let you in through the door. And anything I do that helps you or your situation is intended to help _us_ , not only you and me but the children as well, all five of them. I want you to remember that. All of it will be to build that…that stability you mentioned, for the children and for us.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” said Bard. “I just…it’s hard. Even just admitting that I can barely provide for my kids. I mean, I was never that well-paid at the museum, but it was better than this and I loved the work. And we had Katy’s salary as well. She worked for the council so she wasn’t that well-paid either - earned more than me, though.” He let out a soft, self-deprecating snort of laughter. “So I am actually used to being the lower-earning partner. But…not like this.”

“We’ll find a way to work it out,” said Thranduil as confidently as he could; there was a depth of humiliation and self-loathing in Bard’s voice that told him that his insecurities would take a great deal of unpicking, a great deal of reassurance and careful handling. “I am determined. But in the meantime…the children are occupied, and we have this very comfortable sofa to ourselves. So I would like to ask you, will you come up here and kiss me?”

Bard drew in a long, shuddering breath, and slowly raised his head to look Thranduil in the eyes. “I will learn to trust you,” he said, quietly but intently. “It might take me a while, but…I will.”

“That’s all I ask,” said Thranduil with a smile. “That - and a kiss.”

“That I can do,” said Bard, a smile creeping across his face at last, and he shifted a little, moving up so that he could reach to brush a kiss across Thranduil’s mouth, and then another, soft and insistent. Thranduil parted his lips and let his eyes fall closed, touching his tongue to Bard’s, inviting him deeper, closer, drawing him in; he sent one hand up to cradle the back of Bard’s head, and the other skating down to rest in the small of Bard’s back, holding him firmly in place. 

“I’ll do anything,” Thranduil murmured against Bard’s lips. “Anything you ask me to.”

Bard eased back a little, smiling ruefully. “That’s part of the problem. I’m going to have to be so careful not to take advantage. I’m not the type to be comfortable with the idea of a sugar daddy.” His expression wavered and then he broke into a laugh, and Thranduil echoed it, thoroughly amused.

“Is that what I am?” he asked, one eyebrow raised, and Bard pulled a face.

“I’d rather you weren’t,” he said. “I really do want us to be equal, if we can manage it.”

“We will be,” said Thranduil. “There are other things to this than money, and as we get to know each other we will find out what they are. Although this -“ he flexed his hand in the small of Bard’s back, pulling him down against his hips, “this is part of it.” He grinned, and tilted his head up to kiss Bard again. “But only part of it. I am certainly not only keeping you around for your body, glorious as it is.”

“I’m pleased to hear it,” said Bard, and Thranduil knew he wasn’t just bantering; there was that dull edge of humiliation in his voice again.

“I want every part of you,” said Thranduil urgently, wanting to banish that humiliation, wanting it gone for ever. “Body, heart and soul, I want all of you. I know we don’t know each other all that well yet, but I know enough to be sure of this.”

Bard shook his head. “I’d say you barely know me, you don’t know what you’re talking about - but I barely know you and I want you the same way.” He rested his forehead against Thranduil’s, closing his eyes. “Are we insane?” he murmured, and Thranduil chuckled softly. 

“If we are then at least it’s a shared madness,” he said. “But I think we are quite sane. We’re just…we’ve both stumbled across a chance at happiness, a chance we didn’t think would ever cross our path. Something that we just have to grasp with both hands and deal with the consequences as they come along. It might look like madness to other people, but we know it isn’t, and that’s all that matters.” He curled his fingers in Bard’s hair, cradling the back of his head. “Now come here and kiss me again.”

“So demanding,” said Bard, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, but he leaned down and kissed Thranduil again, soft and insistent and full of feeling. 

Thranduil closed his eyes and kissed back, filled with determination. They would make this work. He would tackle all of Bard’s worries, all of his insecurities, one by one. It would work. It _would_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying the story, do feel free to leave a comment and let me know - long or short or a single emoji, every single one absolutely makes my day. :)
> 
> I am [nocompromise-noregrets](https://nocompromise-noregrets.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr, by the way, so if any of you would like to come and find me there I would love to see you.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil takes care of Bard, a little bit.

Bard shifted a little in Thranduil’s arms, stifling a yawn. “I’m going to have to sit up,” he said, “or I’m going to be falling asleep on you in about five minutes.”

“I wouldn’t mind that one bit,” said Thranduil, smoothing his hand over Bard’s hair and sounding amused but also so caring that it almost made Bard’s heart stop in his chest. 

“I would, though,” said Bard, shifting a little more. “This is lovely, and I’d far rather be awake to enjoy it.” He sighed. “Can you give me a push?”

Thranduil chuckled softly and put his hands between them, spreading his fingers across Bard’s chest and pushing gently but firmly until Bard could get enough purchase on the back of the sofa to haul himself upright; it wasn’t dignified, but at least he wasn’t falling asleep any more.

“You definitely work out, don’t you?” he said, scrubbing a hand through his hair. 

Thranduil smiled a little self-deprecatingly. “There’s a gym of sorts in the basement. I have a lot of time on my hands, and not much to do with it.”

Bard sighed a little wistfully. “I really miss the gym. Had to stop going when I lost my job, but I really used to enjoy it. Helped me keep my head straight, especially after Katy - after she died. I liked the shape it kept me in, too. I miss that.”

Thranduil sat up, leaning forward to smooth the flat of his hand down Bard’s back. “You haven’t lost all of that, you know. You still have the definition, and you could get it back quickly enough. If you want to use the gym here, you’re very welcome.”

Bard sighed again. “Thank you. But if I’ve only got limited time here, I’d rather spend it with you.”

Thranduil flashed him a delighted little smile. “Well, I can’t say I’m complaining,” he said. “Can I get you a refill? I don’t think we quite finished the bottle of wine.”

Bard glanced at his wine glass, standing empty on the side table at the end of the sofa. He’d definitely woken up a bit since he’d sat up, so he thought he could risk it. “Please,” he said. “I can’t tell you how nice it is to just…take the edge off everything a little bit. I don’t usually…well, I can’t afford to. Drink’s a luxury and I’d rather the kids got to eat a little better than they would if I was buying a four-pack or a bottle of wine or whatever.” He pulled a face, but somehow it seemed to be getting a little easier to admit things like that to Thranduil, things he’d never told anyone else, not even Percy or Hilda, or his mam and dad. He’d been trying so hard to hide how bad things were from those he was closest to, but somehow it was easy to be upfront with Thranduil. Maybe because they didn’t actually know each other that well, maybe because Thranduil’s circumstances were so drastically, hilariously different from his own, maybe…maybe because he knew it was more important to be upfront with him than with anyone else in his life. Maybe because it was absolutely vital. And somehow, he didn’t feel quite so agonisingly ashamed here; the shame was still there, sharp and painful, but somehow he felt as though Thranduil understood, even though he had no way of really comprehending it, it was so far from his own experience.

“Of course,” Thranduil said, very softly, stroking Bard’s hair back out of his eyes and tucking it behind his ear, and leaning in for a kiss. “It’s certainly not a necessity. But it’s nice to have, sometimes.” He unfolded himself off the sofa, standing and stretching before he took the glasses over to the drinks cabinet, and Bard sat back against the cushions, just watching him, his attention entirely caught by Thranduil’s comfortable, easy grace. 

Thranduil returned with two full glasses, handing one to Bard and settling himself back on the sofa, pulling Bard back into his embrace. Bard leaned back against his chest and sipped at the wine, closing his eyes and savouring the taste, the warmth of Thranduil’s body against his, and the unfamiliar feeling of safety, as though nothing could touch him here. He didn’t quite know what to make of it, but he thought he wouldn’t question it, not just now.

“How are you feeling?” murmured Thranduil after a while, and Bard considered for a moment before he answered.

“Better,” he said eventually. “It comes and goes in waves. Sometimes I can let it all go and just _be_ , here with you, and sometimes I can’t stop thinking about all the ways it could all go wrong. All the things I can’t give you.”

Thranduil rested his head against Bard’s, brushing his lips across Bard’s temple. “Try to think of the things you can give me instead. Your company, your comfort, an end to my loneliness - and yours. Your delightful children, your sense of family. Your knowledge and expertise for all the things my ancestors left lying around the place.” He nuzzled into Bard’s hair and then drew the tip of his tongue very slowly up the edge of his ear. “Not to mention what we did earlier, what I hope we will do again before too long. You gave me something I had never had before, something I had only dreamed of.”

Bard closed his eyes, biting his lip at the fizz of arousal that ran through him at the sensation of Thranduil’s mouth on his ear. “I hope it lived up to your expectations,” he said a little shakily, and Thranduil chuckled softly. 

“Very much so,” he almost purred. “In fact, you surpassed them, even the wildest of my imaginings. And you’ve given me so many new ideas to think about. I find I want more, as soon as possible.”

“Do you, now?” murmured Bard, turning his head a little, just enough to rest his forehead against Thranduil’s and press a kiss to his mouth. 

“Mmmm,” said Thranduil, “I do. Very much. Although I’m not going to take advantage of you if you’re tired or tipsy, or both.”

Bard kissed him again. “You’re too good to be true. I’m both, but I still want you.” He sighed. “But I haven’t the energy for anything too strenuous. Sorry to disappoint you.”

Thranduil smiled warmly. “Not a disappointment at all. Maybe you should just relax and let me take care of you.” He traced one finger down the side of Bard’s face, down his neck, around the neckline of his t-shirt and dipping underneath it to trail over his collarbone, and Bard caught his breath. 

“Oh,” he whispered, “I would…I would love that. But…not too much here? In case the kids come back down…”

“We’ll hear them on the stairs,” said Thranduil, “but you’re right. This is not something any of them needs to see.” He spread his hand out flat against Bard’s chest, over his heart, and drew it downwards, the tip of one long finger brushing over Bard’s nipple through the thin cloth of his t-shirt. 

Bard caught his breath again. “One of these days we ought to try this sofa for size,” he said, “but not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” Thranduil echoed, curling his fingers a little and drawing them down Bard’s torso, and then slipping his hand under Bard’s shirt, smoothing over his skin, back up again to graze over one nipple and then the other. “But I think we can allow ourselves a little self-indulgence, as long as we can be decent in a couple of seconds if we hear footsteps on the stairs.”

Bard laughed a little breathlessly. “Much more of that and I’m not going to be able to be decent in anywhere less than a couple of minutes,” he said. 

“I’m sure you could if you had to,” said Thranduil, a wicked expression on his beautiful face, “but I don’t think you will. Tilda is asleep, and the others are engrossed in their computer games. So if I do this -“ he pushed Bard to lie back against the cushions and lifted the hem of his shirt, dipping his head to draw his tongue up the middle of Bard’s chest, “I think you will be perfectly safe.”

“Oh, bloody hell,” said Bard, twining a lock of Thranduil’s hair around his fingers, letting it slip out of his grasp and then scooping it up again; it was so soft, silken, not a split end in sight, he didn’t know how that was possible…

“Don’t worry,” said Thranduil, smiling against his skin, “Let me look after you. I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel earlier. Even if we have to stop before too long and go upstairs.”

“All right,” said Bard, a little breathlessly, and Thranduil glanced up at him from under his eyelashes, smiled wickedly and moved a little to press an open-mouthed kiss over Bard’s nipple, darting his tongue against it as it hardened and taking it very gently between his teeth, grazing softly. Bard caught his breath on a hitching moan, settling back into the cushions a little although he couldn’t relax completely, not knowing that the kids were upstairs and the living room door was open…and Thranduil’s lips and tongue and teeth teasing at his nipple, his fingers at the other one, and how had he ever managed to be this lucky, to be here with this beautiful, gentle, caring man making him feel things he hadn’t in years…

Thranduil shifted a little, spreading his hands out across Bard’s torso, flexing his fingers, kissing and licking a trail downwards, dangerously close to the waistband of Bard’s jeans, and Bard made a tiny, incoherent noise, not quite protesting but warning, asking for mercy…he wasn’t really sure. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Thranduil asked, looking up at him, and Bard nodded, very reluctantly. 

“In an ideal world, I’d want you to carry on,” he said, “do what you want to me. But…I can’t, not here, not with the kids upstairs, and the door open, and…I’m sorry…”

“Hush,” said Thranduil, pressing a finger to Bard’s lips, and then sliding up to kiss him. “No apologies. I understand, and you’re right.” He pulled away a little, smiling and smoothing Bard’s shirt back down again. “Let’s finish our wine, and then I will take you to bed and we can do this behind closed doors instead. I want to find out what it feels like to take you into my mouth, I want to know what you taste like, I want to know _everything_.”

“Jesus,” said Bard, unsteadily, reaching for his wine glass and taking a sip, and then another, larger one. “I’d love for you to do that right here, but…yeah, bed sounds good.” 

“Come on, then,” said Thranduil, getting to his feet and taking Bard’s hand to pull him up. “We can take our glasses up. You never know, we might feel like a nightcap, after.”

Bard chuckled a little breathlessly, letting Thranduil lead him out of the room and up the stairs. “Maybe we will,” he said. “I’m still thinking of what I want to do to you on these stairs, by the way.”

“So am I,” said Thranduil, stopping in his tracks and turning to pull Bard tight against him, drawing him in for a deep, hard kiss. “Not now, but hopefully soon. I’m going to be distracted every time I go up or down stairs.”

“Good,” said Bard, “then I’m not the only one.”

“Oh, you’re definitely not the only one,” said Thranduil. “Now…upstairs. And then we will check on the children, and _then_ I will take you to bed and make you feel as good as I possibly can.”

Bard took a deep breath and pulled himself together. “Okay,” he said. “Kids first, then bed.”

“Exactly,” said Thranduil, stepping back again and taking Bard’s hand. “And the sooner we make sure the children are all right, the sooner we can go to bed.”

Bard grinned. “Come on, then,” he said, and they went the rest of the way up the stairs, along the corridor and round the corner into the children’s wing. All was quiet, no sound of computer games, and the lights seemed to be off in all the rooms. Bard put his head round the door of the room Sigrid and Tilda were sharing, seeing that both girls were asleep; he checked his watch and saw that it was half past ten, so if the older kids had indeed gone to bed by ten, then Sigrid had had half an hour to doze off. 

Bain, too, was asleep in the room he had been given opposite Legolas, and Legolas’ and Tauriel’s doors were both closed, no light coming from underneath them. 

“Wonders will never cease,” said Bard quietly. “Seems like having Legolas in charge worked a treat. He’s a good lad.”

“They are all good children, I think,” said Thranduil just as quietly as they made their way back along the corridor and around the corner. “They are responsible and thoughtful, and although I think Bain hoped to be able to play games until midnight, he understood that he should not.”

“He didn’t answer you back, did he?” asked Bard; his son was mostly polite but his weakness for new computer games was something that could have overridden his manners.

“Of course he didn’t,” said Thranduil. “He looked a little disappointed, but he went along with the others. And look - they are all in bed and asleep. Which means that we are free to go to bed - and not sleep. Or not yet, at least.” He flashed Bard another of those wicked smiles, and pushed his bedroom door open, ushering Bard inside and closing the door after them, setting their wine glasses on the bedside table. Then he pulled Bard close, almost crowding him, and walked him backwards towards the bed, kissing him hard all the way, until the backs of Bard’s thighs bumped against the mattress and he found himself sitting down a little clumsily, pulling Thranduil down with him in a tangle of limbs and a flurry of silver hair. 

“That’s better,” said Thranduil, propping himself up on his elbows and leaning down for another kiss. “Now I am going to do exactly what I said I would, and you are going to lie there and let me take care of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying the story, do feel free to leave a comment and let me know - long or short or a single emoji, every single one absolutely makes my day. :)
> 
> I am [nocompromise-noregrets](https://nocompromise-noregrets.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr, by the way, so if any of you would like to come and find me there I would love to see you.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil takes care of Bard some more...and Bard very carefully does not say what's on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's for [Camimac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camimac/pseuds/Camimac), who quite rightly pointed out that I left the last chapter on a particularly evil cliff-hanger. :D No stairs action yet, I'm afraid, not with kids in the house, but it is written (in chapter 22 XD ) and there will be more. :D :D :D
> 
> Also we're earning the rating again here!

Something caught in Bard’s throat at Thranduil’s words, his heart tightening, and he had to close his eyes for a moment; it had been so long since anyone had taken care of him in any way whatsoever, and though part of it was his fault for keeping everything from the people who were closest to him, to have it offered without him having to ask, without him even having to think that it was something he needed, was more than a little overwhelming.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes again to see Thranduil looking down at him with a concerned expression on his lovely face. 

“Are you all right?” he murmured, stroking a few strands of hair out of Bard’s eyes with the tips of his fingers, and Bard swallowed hard and nodded.

“More than all right,” he said. “It’s just…it’s been a while since…it’s been a really _really_ long time…” He trailed off, and Thranduil leaned down to rest his forehead against Bard’s, tilting his head a little to brush the most fleeting of kisses across his mouth. 

“I know,” he said. “That’s why I want to do it. I don’t have to have known you for years to know that you always look after everyone else, and never think to ask anyone to look after you. Maybe there hasn’t been anyone you could ask - I’m not just talking about partners, but other people, friends or family - or you haven’t felt you can ask. But I’m here now, and you don’t have to ask me, although I want you to know that you _can_ , if you need to.” Another kiss, soft and almost chaste, and Bard felt his heart constrict again. 

“Where did you come from?” he found himself whispering, and he’d asked this question before, though he already knew the answer; but he still couldn’t quite work out what he had done to bring this glorious creature into his life.

“I was always here,” said Thranduil. “I was only waiting for you to come along and find me.” He smiled, and it was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds or something, Bard thought distractedly, how did he even _do_ that? “And now, I am going to get you out of all these clothes, and put you up against those pillows, and I am going to lick every inch of your skin, or at least, as many as I can get to before I get distracted by this.” He cupped his hand over the front of Bard’s jeans for a moment, fluttering his long fingers against the fabric, and Bard had to swallow a gasp. 

“Or before I get distracted by you,” he said, and Thranduil laughed. 

“I don’t think so,” he said. “Now, sit up, shut up, and _take that shirt off_.”

Bard shook his head, laughing too. “I hear and obey,” he said, shuffling out from under Thranduil’s body and sitting up, taking the hem of his shirt in his hands and pulling it up over his head, dropping it onto the floor. 

“Good,” said Thranduil. “Now get up there against those pillows.” He pushed Bard gently towards the head of the bed, and Bard went, obediently, already tense with anticipation.

Thranduil sat at the foot of the bed for a moment, watching Bard with heat in his eyes, and then crawled slowly up over him, shaking his hair forward so that it brushed against Bard’s skin. He started with a kiss to Bard’s forehead, soft, gentle, like a benediction, and then another to his mouth, then a trail along the line of his jaw, down his neck, lips and tongue and soft grazes of teeth; Bard tipped his head back, drawing in a long, shuddering breath and letting it out in a sigh of absolute bliss.

He lifted one hand to cradle Thranduil’s head, sliding his fingers into his hair, grazing a fingertip around the shell of his ear; he figured that although Thranduil had been very specific about taking care of him, he hadn’t forbidden him to touch. 

Thranduil rewarded him with a soft hum of pleasure, drawing the tip of his tongue in a line along the base of Bard’s neck, round to the hollow between his collarbones; he traced its outline and then pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss there. Thranduil smoothed his hands over Bard’s shoulders and down his arms, his fingers tracing the outlines of what was left of his muscle definition, and the thought floated through Bard’s head that perhaps, if he was going to be spending his weekends here, he might be able to find some time for the ‘gym of sorts’ in the basement after all. The thought vanished as quickly as it had appeared, though, as Thranduil worked his way lower, closing his mouth over one nipple and taking the other between his fingers, teasing gently, and Bard caught his breath, a sudden jolt of arousal shuddering through him; his fingers tightened involuntarily in Thranduil’s hair, and Thranduil chuckled softly, darkly against his skin.

“Do you like that?” he murmured, and Bard nodded. 

“Yes,” he whispered, “please, don’t stop.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” said Thranduil, and he began to work his way further down Bard’s torso, making good on his promise to lick every inch of at least this part of his skin. Bard closed his eyes, settling back into the pillows a little more, and let himself just feel, sending all of his worries back into the shadows at the back of his mind. He sifted his fingers through Thranduil’s hair, over and over, losing himself in the sensations for a moment…until Thranduil reached his belt buckle and started to undo it, and then he was suddenly very, _very_ aware again. He held his breath as Thranduil made short work of his belt, of the button and zip of his jeans, peeling the fabric open, nudging at him to raise his hips.

“Up,” Thranduil said, softly but firmly, and Bard obeyed, letting him tug the jeans down and off, and then his shorts, the soft fabric dragging tantalisingly over his sensitive skin; he gasped a little frantically, and Thranduil smiled, lowering his head again to draw his tongue along one hipbone, then the other, so close to where Bard suddenly really wanted him. Thranduil paused, nuzzling in with his nose for a moment, and then drew the flat of his tongue very slowly up Bard’s length; Bard let out a helpless, hitching moan, and Thranduil chuckled softly, taking him in hand and trailing the tip of his tongue around his head and then up over it, closing his lips over it, sucking gently. Bard almost whimpered, it felt _incredible_ , and if he had not known this was the first time Thranduil had done this, he thought he never would have guessed. 

Thranduil took him in, slowly and carefully, soft and warm and wet and insistent, and Bard clamped down very firmly on the urge to buck upwards; that was absolutely the last thing Thranduil needed. But it felt so good, he could feel Thranduil experimenting, trying different things, a curl of his tongue, the faintest, softest scrape of his teeth, very gentle sucking and slight movements of his head, letting Bard slip from his mouth a little and then taking him back in, and all the time his hands curled over Bard’s hipbones, thumbs stroking at the soft skin below them; the gentleness alone was enough to undo all of Bard’s defences, he thought, almost enough to break him completely, but everything else as well, all the different sensations, all of it was winding him tighter and tighter, sweeping him up on a tide of arousal, inexorably higher and higher, and he hauled in a breath and managed to speak.

“Wait,” he said breathlessly, “wait, I’m…I’m close, you’re so…”

Thranduil raised his head, smiling warmly although there was a hint of apprehension in his eyes, and Bard smoothed his thumb down the side of Thranduil’s face.

“Come here,” he said, sliding his hand down to Thranduil’s shoulder and tugging gently. Thranduil sighed very softly and then slid up to lie alongside Bard, wrapping his fingers around him. 

“I so very much want to finish you like that,” he whispered. “But -“

“It’s a bit much, the first time you do it,” said Bard, tilting Thranduil’s chin up for a kiss. “Not just the first time, either, it takes some getting used to. And -“ he arched a little bit, into Thranduil’s hand, gasping, he really was _very_ close, “and it’s you, it’s glorious either way. Only…don’t stop?”

“I wouldn’t dream of stopping,” said Thranduil, sounding as though he had regained his equilibrium, and he kept stroking, firmly, a little faster, a little faster, and the tide of arousal rose again and engulfed Bard completely; he tangled his hands in Thranduil’s hair and tipped his head back and cried out, trying to be as quiet as possible but utterly unable to stay silent.

“There,” murmured Thranduil after a moment, “do you feel better now?”

Bard couldn’t answer at first, gasping for breath and putting himself back together again. He couldn’t say what was on his mind, what was in his heart, he had to clamp his mouth shut against the words that wanted to come tumbling out, it was too soon, too complicated and these words would only make it more so. He took a deep breath and then another, and forced the words to subside, and then turned his head a little to look at Thranduil, pulling him down for a long, lazy, blissful kiss. 

“So much better,” he said eventually, pulling himself together. “I can’t remember…christ, you’re amazing, you make me feel so good I can’t even tell you.”

“Good,” said Thranduil, bringing his hand up to his mouth, tentatively putting out the tip of his tongue and licking at his fingers, which only made Bard catch his breath all over again. 

“Jesus,” he said, “you’re going to be the end of me.”

Thranduil gave him a delighted smile. “I hope not,” he said. “I’m hoping to do that many more times. But for now, I think I should clean us up and then you should get under the covers and finish your wine.” He reached for tissues from the box on the bedside table, and carefully wiped at Bard’s stomach and his own hand.

Bard chuckled. “And what are you going to do?” he asked, and Thranduil grinned. 

“I’m going to get out of all these clothes and get in there with you and finish my wine,” he said. “And then I’m going to hold you until you fall asleep, and _then_ I’m going to go to sleep myself.” He leaned in for a kiss. “I said I’d take care of you and I didn’t just mean this.”

Bard shook his head, smiling. “You’re amazing,” he said. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I absolutely won’t question it.”

“You were just yourself,” said Thranduil. “Now, get into bed and drink your wine and I will be with you in half a second.” He slid off the mattress, dropping the tissues into the bin, and padded round to the other side of the bed, peeling off his shirt and then his jeans; Bard got himself under the covers and reached out for their wine glasses, not taking his eyes from Thranduil the whole time, drinking in the sight of him as he undressed.

Thranduil slid under the covers and pressed a switch beside the headboard; the lights dimmed to a warm, sleepy glow, and Bard blinked, suddenly feeling tired again. 

Thranduil took his glass from Bard and clinked their two glasses together very gently. “I know it’s not the done thing to toast with a half-finished glass,” he said, “or when the wine in it has warmed up almost beyond drinkability. But we drank to being friends with that god-awful low-alcohol wine, so I think we’ve got form in this area.”

Bard couldn’t help a laugh. “And what are we drinking to?” he asked. 

“How about being much, much more than friends?” Thranduil suggested, and Bard smiled, leaning in for a kiss.

“I’ll definitely drink to that,” he said. “And I’ll try not to be an idiot about it.”

Thranduil shook his head. “You’re not an idiot,” he said. “You’re very understandably wary, and you’re right in that it isn’t going to be simple, between us. But if we can only talk about things, I think we’ll be all right. There has to be a way all through this, a way that allows us to be together, and happy, and equal, and I’m determined that we’ll find it.”

“I’ll drink to that, too,” said Bard. “You’re going to have to be patient with me. I’m not going to find it easy. But - I’ll try. I promise I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask,” said Thranduil, clinking his glass gently against Bard’s again. “To being very much more than friends, and finding a way to make all of this work.”

“To all of that,” said Bard, and Thranduil kissed him, long and slow and soft, and then they set to work finishing their wine.

A little later, lying in Thranduil’s arms, feeling Thranduil’s fingers sifting through his hair, Bard slowly drifted off to sleep, and the words that he could not say were floating round and round in his head, _I love you I love you I love you_ , and he hoped against hope he wasn’t going to talk in his sleep because it was too early for that, far too early and it was so important that he didn’t screw this up, almost the most important thing in the world, after his kids…almost…and then he was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying the story, do feel free to leave a comment and let me know - long or short or a single emoji, every single one absolutely makes my day. :)
> 
> I am [nocompromise-noregrets](https://nocompromise-noregrets.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr, by the way, so if any of you would like to come and find me there I would love to see you.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil wakes up early, and leaves Bard to sleep while he has breakfast with the kids...and a rather important conversation with Sigrid.

Thranduil woke as the daylight began to make its way into the room around the curtains, and when he checked his phone he saw that it was nearly eight o’clock. Bard was still fast asleep, stretched out on his side, his arm over Thranduil’s waist, and Thranduil couldn’t help a smile as he propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at him. When he slept, all of the worry was smoothed from his face, the shadows under his eyes were faded, the lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth were less pronounced. Thranduil had absolutely no intention of waking him; Bard could sleep until he woke naturally, today, something that Thranduil was fairly sure he never normally got to do.

He himself was wide awake, though, and he very gently extricated himself from Bard’s embrace, careful not to wake him, although he couldn’t quite resist leaning down and brushing a kiss over Bard’s forehead. Then he slid out of bed and padded into the bathroom, closing the door quietly and smiling to himself at the memory of what they had found themselves doing in here the previous afternoon. 

His hair did not need washing, so he knotted it on the back of his head to keep it out of the way while he showered. He washed quickly - no point lingering, without company to make it worthwhile, he thought to himself with another smile - and wrapped himself in a towel, making his way on silent feet back across the bedroom to the dressing room. 

Once he was dried and dressed, he made his way downstairs, scooping up the wine glasses from the bedside tables and pausing for just a moment to look at Bard, still sleeping peacefully. And then he tore himself away, letting himself quietly out of the bedroom and heading down the stairs. He had to smile yet again as he made his way down, remembering what Bard had said to him, about what he’d been thinking about doing on the stairs. Thranduil had to suppress a shiver that had nothing to do with the chilly air; he definitely wanted to put that idea into practice, as soon as they had the house to themselves again.

He made his way to the kitchen, setting the coffee maker going and putting the wine glasses in the dishwasher, and then poured himself a coffee and took it through to the living room, stopping in his study on the way to pick up yesterday’s newspaper, which he had not quite finished reading before Bard had arrived. He folded it open on his lap, sipping his coffee, but after a few minutes he realised that he had not taken in anything of the article he thought he had been reading. Instead he had been thinking about Bard, and his family, and their unenviable situation, trying to come up with a way of making things work between them, thinking himself round in circles. He knew already that Bard’s pride would mean he would not want to accept material help, and Thranduil could understand that. He would respect Bard’s decisions, of course he would, but perhaps he could find ways of helping that would not insult Bard, or imply that he was not capable of looking after his family, or otherwise injure his pride, which had taken such a battering over the last couple of years. 

First, Thranduil thought, they needed to get to know each other better; they needed to learn to trust each other completely, and that would come with time. And he needed to get to know the children, so that Bard might feel comfortable letting him look after them sometimes. If he could take some of the strain of childcare from Bard’s shoulders - and from Sigrid’s, and from Bain’s - perhaps that would be a good start. Looking after the children was not material or monetary either, so hopefully it would not make Bard feel too uncomfortable.

He looked up as he heard footsteps on the stairs, and saw Legolas and Sigrid crossing the hall. “Good morning,” he called, and they came to stand in the doorway; Legolas was yawning but Sigrid looked bright-eyed and awake.

“Morning, Papa,” said Legolas around another yawn, and Sigrid smiled. 

“Hello,” she said. “Tauriel will be down in a few minutes, I think. Tilda’s still asleep, and Bain will sleep until midday unless one of us goes to give him a kick.”

Thranduil smiled. “Perhaps we should let him. There’s nothing planned for today, after all.”

“I take it Da’s still asleep,” said Sigrid calmly, and Thranduil thought about pretending he didn’t know for about half a second, before he realised that she would see right through him.

“He is,” he said, instead. “I thought that we should probably let him sleep in, too.”

Sigrid nodded. “He never gets to have a lie-in any more,” she said. “Not really since Mam died, but especially since he started the delivery job. He’s either up early for work, or up early sorting stuff out for us.”

“Then when you are all staying here, he will have the chance for a lie-in,” said Thranduil firmly. “We thought you might all like to come to stay at the weekends, sometimes.” He held his breath, waiting for Sigrid’s reaction, but she only smiled.

“That would be lovely,” she said. “It’s only a shame Legolas and Tauriel won’t be here to join in the fun.”

“I’m really jealous,” said Legolas, yawning again. “I’m going to go and get a cup of tea, Sigrid, do you want anything?”

“Can I have a coffee, please?” she asked him with a smile. “Not too strong, lots of milk and a sugar, please.”

“Coming right up,” said Legolas, and he took himself off in the direction of the kitchen. 

Sigrid came into the room and perched on the other sofa, looking a little wary. Thranduil smiled at her over the rim of his coffee mug, and after a moment she took a deep breath and began to speak.

“I just wanted to talk to you about my Da, a little bit, and about Tauriel,” she said, and Thranduil nodded encouragingly.

“Do feel free,” he said, and Sigrid smiled faintly. 

“Well, with Da,” she said, “you’ve probably already worked out that he works stupidly hard all the time and he never, _ever_ puts himself first. I just wanted to ask you to be careful with him because he’s - he’s the best man in the world, he really is, and he’s been through so much, he’s still going through it with his job, and really he just needs looking after - but first he’ll need persuading to let you look after him.” She gave him a slightly watery smile. “And he’ll do absolutely anything for the people he loves, so…I don’t know, I just wanted to tell you…” she trailed off, scrubbing a hand through her hair, just as Thranduil had noticed Bard tended to do when he was struggling to find the words to put to his thoughts. 

Thranduil set his paper aside and put his coffee mug on the side table, leaning forward a little. “I hope I can reassure you, Sigrid,” he said. “I like your father a lot, and I want to be able to look after him - and all of you - in any way that I can, that doesn’t make him feel worse about things. I think it’s going to be difficult to work everything out, but I am determined to try.” He smiled. “I might need to ask you to help me,” he said, and was only a little bit surprised when she blushed. 

“Honestly, I’ll do anything,” she said. “Da deserves to be happy, and he deserves to be doing something he enjoys, and not delivering parcels all day every day. And not having to worry about us all the time.”

“We’ll do our best,” said Thranduil. “And - did you want to talk to me about Tauriel?”

Sigrid blushed even harder, but to her credit she held his gaze. “I just wanted to tell you that I like her a lot, and I wouldn’t dream of doing anything to hurt her. I know we won’t be able to see each other very much, and I know we’ve got school to concentrate on, but I’m not just messing around with her, I’m serious about her, and I wanted you to know that.”

Thranduil nodded, feeling rather charmed by Sigrid’s earnestness, although he did have to bite his tongue to suppress the laugh that wanted to bubble up at her serious expression. “I appreciate that very much, Sigrid,” he said, when he had got himself under control. “Tauriel had a very difficult time of it when she was a child, as I think you know, and although we have done the best we could for her, I know she still bears the scars on her spirit. She has been happier than I have seen her in a long time, since she came home for the holidays, and I think you have had a lot to do with that.” He couldn’t help a smile; Sigrid was still blushing, but she looked delighted. 

“I hope so,” she said quietly. “I - she makes me happy too.”

“Then I’m glad for both of you,” said Thranduil, glancing up as Legolas came back into the room with two steaming mugs. 

Legolas handed one mug to Sigrid and sat down with his own in one of the armchairs, folding his legs up under himself. “Me too,” he said. “Sorry - I overheard you, but I just wanted to say that T’s been so much happier just lately and I know it’s because of you, Sigrid. I’ll try and keep her from moping too much when we’re back at school.”

Thranduil thought to himself that if Sigrid got any redder she might actually combust, but she only smiled, looking pleased. 

“Thank you,” she said after a moment. “It’s going to be a long time until Easter.”

“It is,” said Thranduil. “We will have to keep each other company. Although I suppose it might be possible for us all to visit at half term in February. I usually try to get there every half term, so this time perhaps we could all go.”

“That would be great, Papa,” said Legolas with a warm smile, sipping at his tea. “We only get a long weekend instead of a week, Sigrid, but usually parents and family come to visit and take us out for day trips. Sometimes we come home for the weekend, but we’ll have to stay at school this time because we’ve both got loads to do. I’ve got my A-Levels in the summer, and T is up to her eyebrows with coursework, so we won’t have time to come home.”

Sigrid nodded. “Tauriel mentioned it,” she said. “She said some other schools have weekends off, and a full week for half term, but that your school is still quite old-fashioned about holidays.”

Legolas grinned. “It really is. But it’s one of the best schools for all the subjects we’re good at, so, you know, grand scheme of things.” He shrugged. “Besides, we can do archery and horse-riding there, and anyway, I’ve only got two terms left before I finish.”

“I’m so jealous,” said Sigrid. “I like the learning bit, but I don’t much like school. What are you going to do next?”

Legolas shrugged again. “I don’t know. I think I want to do history at university eventually, but first I want to find out a bit more about how things work here. Papa, I meant to ask you, I wanted to talk to Feren about maybe doing some work experience in the estate office, just to find out how it all works.”

“That is absolutely fine with me,” said Thranduil. “I did the same when I was your age. I’m no expert, and I didn’t study estate management like Feren did, but it definitely helps to know what’s going on.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Legolas. “I’ll drop him an email. I should have asked earlier, really, but I suppose he’ll have been busy with Christmas.”

“Of course,” said Thranduil. “Well, send him an email and perhaps you can start in the Easter holidays, if you have any time around studying for your exams.”

“It’ll give me something to look forward to,” said Legolas. “You know, motivation to get my studying out of the way.” He glanced up, in the direction of the doorway, and grinned. “Hey, T. Papa says I can go and help Feren in the estate office in the Easter holidays.”

Thranduil and Sigrid both looked up, and Thranduil could not hide a smile at the look on Sigrid’s face; her eyes lit up and she smiled warmly, and Tauriel mirrored her look of blissful happiness as she came into the room. 

“Morning everyone,” she said. “Legs, that’s great. Sigrid, I think I heard Tilda stirring, I don’t know if she needs checking on?”

“She’ll be fine,” said Sigrid. “We’re all pretty self-sufficient, and she’s ten now so she’s all right at getting herself sorted out. I’m guessing Bain’s still out cold?”

Tauriel grinned. “His door’s shut and I’m sure I heard him snoring, so yes, I think he is. I’m going to go and get myself some tea, does anyone want anything from the kitchen?”

Sigrid and Legolas shook their heads, and Thranduil smiled. “I think we’re all fine,” he said. “When Tilda comes down, we’ll go and have breakfast in the kitchen - let’s wait for her here so that we hear her coming downstairs, and she doesn’t come down and not find us.”

“Good idea, Papa,” said Tauriel, and she went off to make her tea. 

Tauriel had not long returned when Thranduil heard a quiet, hesitant step on the stairs, and he craned his neck to see Tilda standing on the next-to-last step looking a little bit lost, as though she had screwed up her courage to come downstairs on her own but had run out of it just at the end. 

“Good morning, Tilda,” he called, “we’re here, in the living room. Do you want some breakfast?”

Tilda looked up, saw him, and gave him a beaming smile. “Yes please,” she called, descending the remaining stairs and making her way across the hall, looking more confident again. 

“Morning, Tilda,” said Legolas as she came into the room, and Sigrid and Tauriel echoed him; Thranduil smiled to see Tilda’s face light up when she saw Legolas, although she frowned as she looked around and saw that Bard was not there.

“Where’s Da?” she asked, looking a little forlorn, and Thranduil was about to answer her, but Sigrid got in first.

“Da’s still asleep, Til,” she said. “You know how tired he gets, and he doesn’t usually get to sleep in, but today he can.”

“Oh,” said Tilda. “All right. What if he misses breakfast, though?”

“He can have breakfast when he wakes up,” said Thranduil. “We can always put a tray together to take up to him, would you like that?”

Tilda’s face lit up again. “Yes please!” she said. “But…can I have something first? I’m hungry.”

“Of course you can,” said Thranduil, getting up from the sofa and offering her his hand; she took it with no hesitation whatsoever, and he conducted her out of the room and along the corridor to the kitchen, followed by Legolas, Tauriel and Sigrid. 

The children busied themselves with toast and cereal, and Thranduil let them get their breakfast before he ventured to the toaster. He did not usually eat much at breakfast; it took him a good few hours after waking up to be hungry, but he managed a couple of slices of toast and butter and a glass of orange juice, while the children wolfed down their own breakfasts, talking excitedly about what they might do today. Thranduil let their conversation wash over him, relishing it; other than Christmas, he couldn’t remember the last time the kitchen had been filled with so many voices. 

“What do you want to do today?” he asked them eventually, and the four of them looked at each other. 

“I wanted to ask if I can look at your library, please,” said Sigrid, suddenly a little shy, and Thranduil smiled. 

“Of course you can,” he said. “There’s a bit of modern stuff in there as well as the old books, so you might find something interesting.”

“Oh, I think the old books are just as interesting as new ones,” said Sigrid, looking suddenly animated and excited. “Is it all right if I look at them?”

“By all means,” said Thranduil. “They are there to be read, and I’m afraid I don’t read them nearly enough. Take them off the shelves, look through them, enjoy them.”

“I’d like to look at the library too, Papa,” said Tauriel. “I like it in there, but it’s more fun if there’s someone to look at the books with.”

Legolas grinned utterly unrepentantly. “I know I like history, but I just can’t find most of those books interesting. They’re so dry.”

“I’m sure I’ll find some of them interesting,” said Sigrid. “What do you want to do, Til?”

“Can I look at the garden some more?” asked Tilda. “I liked it when we were here at Christmas but we didn’t see very much of it.”

“That sounds far more like fun,” said Legolas. “Shall we go and explore the garden, then, and if Bain wakes up he can come and find us and we can play football on the lawn or something.”

“All right,” said Tilda, beaming at him. “Can we go on the swing?”

“Of course we can,” laughed Legolas. “Come on, finish your orange juice and we’ll get wrapped up warm.”

“I want to make breakfast for Da first,” said Tilda, and Thranduil and Legolas exchanged an affectionate glance over her head.

“Of course,” said Thranduil. “That won’t take you very long, though. Does he like toast?”

Tilda nodded, and Legolas got up, holding a hand out to her. “Come on then, let’s make your Da some toast, and then maybe Papa can take it up to him, in case he isn’t awake yet. You don’t want to wake him up by accident, do you?” He flashed a knowing look at Thranduil, who merely quirked an eyebrow at him, his face an impassive mask, although he was glad that Legolas had hopefully deflected Tilda from wanting to take the tray up herself.

“No-o,” said Tilda. “Okay, I can’t reach the toaster so you’ll have to do that bit. I can put the butter on it though.”

“Good plan,” said Legolas, “let me reach you down a plate, and a glass for some orange juice, and a mug for some coffee.” He did so, and the two of them chattered quietly about the gardens while they waited for the toast to finish. 

“Well, it looks like you two have Da’s breakfast all sewn up,” said Sigrid, “so I think we’ll go and check out the library, if that’s all right.”

“Feel free,” said Thranduil; he could read the eagerness to be alone on both girls’ faces, and privately he rather sympathised. They headed off down the corridor, hands finding each other as they went, and he smiled. At least there was one relationship in this family that was straightforward and uncomplicated. 

And speaking of the other one…Tilda and Legolas had finished putting the breakfast tray together for Bard, except the coffee, and he nodded at them. 

“Thank you both,” he said. “I’ll make the coffee and take it up in a little while, but I do want him to be able to sleep a little longer. Now, off you go and have fun in the garden, and I’ll see you for lunch, if you’re not bored or cold before.”

“I think we’ll be running around too much to be cold, won’t we, Tilda?” said Legolas, and Tilda giggled.

“Yes,” she said, and she wrapped her arms around Thranduil’s neck in an impulsive hug that took him entirely by surprise. “Thank you for breakfast!”

“You’re very welcome,” said Thranduil, hugging her rather awkwardly and patting her very gently on the back. “Have fun in the garden.”

“We will!” she chirped, letting him go and grabbing Legolas by the hand again, tugging him towards the boot room door. Legolas shot his father an amused, affectionate grin, and then they were through the door, letting it fall shut behind them. 

Thranduil couldn’t help a smile at the thought of the two of them getting on so well; it was the last thing he had expected, but then again, Legolas had always been good at being a big brother to Tauriel. Perhaps he was enjoying getting to do it again, now that Tauriel was almost grown up.

He made himself another coffee and drank it, and when the clock on the wall showed that it was nearly ten, he made one for Bard, put it on the tray that Tilda and Legolas had prepared, and carried it upstairs. He opened the bedroom door very quietly and eased inside; Bard was still fast asleep, so he put the tray on the dressing table by the window and sat down in the armchair to watch over him for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying the story, do feel free to leave a comment and let me know - long or short or a single emoji, every single one absolutely makes my day. :)
> 
> I am [nocompromise-noregrets](https://nocompromise-noregrets.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr, by the way, so if any of you would like to come and find me there I would love to see you.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard wakes up very late.

Bard stirred, slowly surfacing from a dream about - no, it was gone, the last shreds of it slipping through his fingers, floating away like smoke on the breeze. He was warm and comfortable and…somehow not exhausted, which was so unusual as to be almost unheard-of. He stretched, opened his eyes, and smiled as he realised where he was. Of course. Thranduil’s bed was far more comfortable than his own, the mattress just right, the covers soft and warm and probably some ridiculously high thread-count, unlike the ancient, threadbare things he had at home. The room was dim, the curtains still drawn and no lights on, but he thought he could make out daylight beyond the curtains, and for the first time he wondered how late it was.

“Good morning,” came a voice from over near the window, deep and soft and warm, and Bard rubbed his eyes and raised himself up on his elbows to see Thranduil sitting in an armchair and smiling warmly.

“Morning,” he said. “What time is it?”

Thranduil checked his watch. “About ten past eleven,” he said. “But don’t worry, all the children have had breakfast and they are now entertaining themselves. Sigrid and Tauriel are in the library, and Legolas, Tilda and Bain are outside. Legolas said something about playing football on the lawn.”

“Crap,” said Bard, who couldn’t remember the last time he had slept in this late. “Sorry. Shouldn’t have left you to field them all. I really didn’t mean to sleep this late.”

Thranduil waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t be ridiculous. You needed the sleep, and I am quite capable of making sure the children get enough to eat and find themselves something to do.”

“Yes, but -“ Bard said, and then he noticed that there was a breakfast tray on the dressing table, and his stomach growled, making him realise that he was suddenly very hungry indeed. “Is that - did you -“ 

Thranduil smiled, getting to his feet and bringing the tray over to the bed. “I brought you up some breakfast, yes. Tilda and Legolas put the tray together, all I did was make the coffee, although I am afraid the toast and the coffee will both now be stone cold. I can go and get you some more if you’d like.”

Bard shook his head, sitting up and taking the tray from Thranduil, feeling a little overwhelmed. Breakfast in bed was something else that was so rare it might as well never happen to him, and yet - here he was, with a breakfast tray made especially for him and brought to him by the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. He reached for the coffee first and took a long drink, not caring that it was cold; next was the toast, also cold, but the butter had melted into it before it had cooled and it was that delicious sourdough bread again, that they’d had for breakfast on Boxing Day; it was utterly divine, as hungry as he was.

Thranduil sat down beside him, drawing his long legs up underneath him, and Bard tried not to stare, tried to concentrate on his breakfast instead. 

“Did the kids get up on their own?” he asked after a moment or two, hoping that they had behaved themselves, though Thranduil seemed unruffled. 

“They did,” said Thranduil. “Bain some time after the others, but I sent him down to get some breakfast, and I suggested he might like to find Legolas and Tilda in the gardens. The others all appeared more or less together.” He smiled. “Sigrid buttonholed me to reassure me about her intentions with regard to Tauriel, which I have to admit was rather charming of her.”

Bard blinked. “She did what? Bloody hell.” He shook his head. “She’s braver than I was at that age. That can’t have been easy.”

Thranduil chuckled softly. “I don’t know what you mean. I am perfectly nice and unthreatening.”

“And you’re her girlfriend’s Da,” said Bard. “Nice and unthreatening or not, it’ll still have taken a lot of courage for her to talk to you like that.” He couldn’t help a smile, feeling suddenly immensely proud of his eldest child. 

“She is very mature,” said Thranduil, “and I am suitably reassured. Although I probably need to talk to Tauriel before she goes back to school.”

Bard nodded. “I need to talk to Sigrid too, just to make sure we all understand each other. I don’t want either of them getting hurt, or their schoolwork suffering.”

“No, indeed,” said Thranduil. “I suggested to the children that perhaps we might all go to see Legolas and Tauriel at half term; they get a free weekend in February, so the girls don’t necessarily have to wait until Easter to see each other again.”

“Oh,” said Bard, “that’s a good idea. I imagine they perked up a bit at that.”

Thranduil chuckled. “I think they did. And now they’re in the library, looking at the books, apparently.”

“I’m not going to think about it,” said Bard. “But I guess I don’t begrudge them their time together, either. If they make each other happy, which I think they do -“

“They are old enough to know what they’re doing,” said Thranduil. “Well, more or less.”

Bard chuckled softly. “I’m going to trust that Sigrid, at least, is sensible enough not to be doing things somewhere she might easily be caught by her Da _and_ her girlfriend’s Da.”

Thranduil laughed. “Let’s hope they’re both sensible enough. Meanwhile, of course her Da and her girlfriend’s Da are somewhere they _ought_ not to be disturbed…” He traced a finger down Bard’s upper arm, then back up again, then along Bard’s collarbone, up his neck and under his chin, leaning in for a kiss. 

Bard closed his eyes and kissed him back, keeping a careful hold on the breakfast tray so as not to spill anything, a shiver running down his spine. This really was the best way to wake up, he found himself thinking, rather absently, as Thranduil slid his hand round to cradle the back of Bard’s head, fingers tangling in his hair.

“Let me take that tray from you,” said Thranduil after a moment, easing the tray out of Bard’s hands and leaning over to place it on the floor. Bard couldn’t help staring; even though Thranduil was fully dressed, there was something about the easy grace with which he moved that made even the most mundane of actions quite distractingly sensual.

“You’re wearing entirely too many clothes,” he said as Thranduil straightened back up, and Thranduil glanced down at himself, then up at Bard. 

“So I am,” he said. “Should we do something about that? I don’t think the children will be wanting lunch just yet.”

Bard grinned. “I think we should _definitely_ do something about that,” he said, drawing Thranduil close, fingers going straight to the buttons of his shirt. 

“How can I possibly refuse you?” said Thranduil in that low purr of his again, sliding out of his clothes and under the covers.

Some considerable time later, after they had both had to resort to the shower, and taken a while longer to get dressed, they made their way downstairs, hand-in-hand, and Bard felt quietly warm and contented, as though they had been together for years instead of a couple of weeks. The sound of low voices came from the library, and they put their heads round the door to see Sigrid and Tauriel with a large, leather-bound volume open on the table, heads together over the pages. 

“Morning, Da,” said Sigrid, looking up, “did you sleep all right?”

“Like a log, thank you, sweetheart,” Bard said. “Looks like you’ve found something interesting.”

“It’s a Victorian edition of the Shakespeare tragedies,” Sigrid explained. “We thought we’d look through Romeo and Juliet, I’ve got an essay coming up, but then we got distracted by the pictures. They’re so dramatic, Da, look.” She beckoned him over and he went to see, his hand still held firmly in Thranduil’s. 

The book was open at an illustration of the balcony scene, with Juliet more or less swooning and looking distraught, the back of her hand to her forehead, with Romeo on the ground beneath looking up at her with a stricken expression; Bard had to laugh.

“Probably tells you something about how the Victorians saw it all,” he said, and Tauriel giggled. 

“It isn’t as though the story hasn’t got any drama in it,” she said. “They could have done this much more straightforwardly and let the story do the talking, but instead they’re laying it on really thick. We did a bit about Victorian melodrama in theatre studies last term, and I think that might have a lot to do with it.”

Bard nodded, impressed. “You might be able to work that into your essay then, Sig,” he said, and Sigrid nodded. 

“I’m thinking about it. We haven’t had the title yet, so I don’t know what they’ll want us to write.”

“Well,” said Thranduil, “if there is anything here that might be helpful to you, you are very welcome to come and use it. The books don’t get nearly enough use; I don’t know when that one was last down off the shelf.”

“I had it down last year, Papa,” said Tauriel, “only I don’t think you came in when I was looking at it. I had an essay about Macbeth so I thought I’d look at this one to see if I could understand the text better by reading an old edition instead of the modern one I had from school.” She shook her head. “It didn’t really work.”

“I think that often the best way to understand what Shakespeare is trying to say is to watch the play performed, rather than trying to read it,” said Thranduil. “The actors’ interpretations help make sense of the language.”

Sigrid nodded. “That’s what my teacher said when we were having trouble with Romeo and Juliet. Then we watched the film, the modern one, and it made a lot more sense.”

“Much as I’m enjoying the literary analysis,” said Bard after a moment, “I could really do with a coffee. Anyone else want one?”

Thranduil and Tauriel shook their heads, but Sigrid nodded, and Bard smiled, here was his chance to talk to her, he thought, and it might give Thranduil the opportunity to talk to Tauriel, too.

“Come on then, Sig, you can help me work the coffee machine, and then you can come back to your over-dramatic Victorian Shakespeare.” He held out a hand to her, slipping his arm around her shoulders as she came closer, and then walked her out of the room and down the corridor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The melodramatic Victorian illustrated version of Shakespeare really exists and is at my parents' house - they picked it up second-hand at some point, and I spent a lot of time when I was little leafing through and looking at the pictures. They really are that dramatic, from memory. Lots of swooning. XD (eta: I asked my mum to take some photos, since I don't know when I'm going to get to the parents' place to do it myself, and they are posted [here](https://nocompromise-noregrets.tumblr.com/post/644391597577027585/a-few-shots-of-my-mums-old-copy-of-the-complete) in case you want to see. The illustrations really are that melodramatic! <333333 )
> 
> Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying the story, do feel free to leave a comment and let me know - long or short or a single emoji, every single one absolutely makes my day. :)
> 
> I am [nocompromise-noregrets](https://nocompromise-noregrets.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr, by the way, so if any of you would like to come and find me there I would love to see you.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard and Sigrid make coffee, and have an important conversation.

Bard waited until they were in the kitchen, safely at the other end of the corridor, before he broached the subject. “So, you and Tauriel,” he said mildly, eyeing the coffee maker somewhat warily; it was one of those fancy espresso-and-filter things and he realised he hadn’t the first idea what to do with it.

“What about us, Da?” Sigrid asked, getting the milk out of the fridge and bringing it over to him, sounding more wary than confrontational.

“Well,” Bard said, “how long have you been you-and-Tauriel, for starters?” He found the on-button for the coffee machine and switched it on, and checked the water reservoir behind the filter, which looked full enough for a couple of mugs’ worth. 

Sigrid fetched mugs and spoons, and handed him a Kilner jar full of coffee; he snapped the seal open and breathed in the scent, full and rich. 

“Since July,” she said, evidently going for matter-of-fact, but sounding a little wary still. 

Bard’s eyebrows went up. “Since July? So…how am I only finding out about it now? I don’t _mind_ , exactly, just…I kind of feel like I should have known.”

“We didn’t want to tell anyone at first,” said Sigrid. “Not because we thought you’d be funny about it, or Tauriel’s Da, or anyone else, just…it was nice to have something that was just ours. Tauriel’s always surrounded by people at school, and, you know, we’re all crammed in on top of each other at home, it was just nice to have a secret that only the two of us knew.”

Bard nodded. “I suppose I can see where you’re coming from. God knows you don’t get much privacy at home.”

“It’s not your fault, Da,” said Sigrid firmly. “It just - it is what it is. But we weren’t hiding it because we were ashamed or anything.”

“Good,” said Bard, fiddling with the cover to the filter-holder and flipping it open to find that there was already a clean filter inside, and a scoop in the coffee jar. He dumped four decent-sized scoops of coffee in, hoping that was the right amount, and dropped the lid closed again, pressing the button marked ‘brew’ and hoping for the best. “I don’t want you thinking there’s anything to be ashamed of, because there isn’t. I just - I don’t know, I just wanted to ask you to be careful, all right? You’re young - yes, I know, I know, you’re old enough,” he put in before Sigrid could protest, “but you’re still young, and you’ve got a lot on, what with your exams and everything.” He sighed, raking a hand through his hair and wishing that Katy was here; she’d have known exactly what to say. “Just - look, I know you’re going to miss each other while she’s away at school, but try not to let it distract you from your schoolwork too much, all right? It’s an important year for you.”

“I know, Da,” said Sigrid. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Honestly though, a lot of the time we’re talking about schoolwork anyway, and Tauriel’s given me lots of her notes from last year when she was doing her GCSEs. She didn’t do the exact same subjects, or the same set books, but there’s enough in there that’s really helpful, and that our teachers haven’t even thought to put in.”

Bard chuckled. “The advantages of a private education,” he said, “where the teachers have time to spend with their students going through every aspect of what they’re studying. Whereas your lot are lucky if they get a free moment or two before they go to bed.”

“I know, Da,” said Sigrid again. “It was really nice of Tauriel to give me her notes, she didn’t have to. And she said I could share them with Bain, too, because he’ll be coming up to start his GCSE courses in the autumn.”

Bard nodded, impressed. “That’s good of her. All right, so you’re mostly talking about schoolwork, that sounds promising. Do I want to know the rest of what you talk about?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and put the tiniest emphasis on the word ‘talk’, and Sigrid groaned and punched him lightly on the arm.

“Give over, Da. I’m not telling you about _that_. Anyway, there’s hardly anything to tell, just so you know. Neither of us is ready for…well, for anything much, so we’re not doing anything much.”

“I see,” said Bard, raising his eyebrows a little, impressed all over again by Sigrid’s maturity. “Well, I suppose I’m pleased to hear it. And…well, if you do need to talk about anything like that, I’m here. It’ll be horribly awkward, but I’ll do my best.”

Sigrid groaned again. “Oh god, Da, let’s just not, all right? I wouldn’t have talked to Mam about this stuff either, so honestly, don’t feel you have to step up just because she’s not here. I promise, everything’s fine.”

Bard couldn’t help a relieved laugh, although Sigrid’s mention of her mother made his heart constrict. “All right, sweetheart. But if you ever do need to talk, you know…”

Sigrid rolled her eyes. “Well, let me just say up front that I really really don’t need to hear about any of that about you and Tauriel’s Da, so shall we just call it quits?”

Bard blinked at her once or twice, and then shook his head, chuckling. “Touché. All right, no discussions of that sort of thing unless absolutely necessary.”

“Which it won’t be,” said Sigrid firmly. “Anyway, I think it’s great that you two are together. It’s so nice to see you happy.”

Bard couldn’t help a smile. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’m still a bit bewildered by it, if I’m honest. All of this was the last thing I expected.”

“I know,” said Sigrid. “But you know what it’s like, sometimes things happen out of the blue. I’m just glad you met each other.”

Bard raised an eyebrow. “You know, it’s funny, sweetheart. I’ve had the strangest feeling that you might have had something to do with that.”

Sigrid just looked at him, utterly unruffled. “No idea what you’re talking about, Da,” she said. 

“Really,” said Bard, folding his arms and attempting to give her a very hard stare, but he couldn’t quite manage it. “And the fact that you and Tauriel happened to know each other already has nothing to do with it.”

“Nothing at all, Da,” said Sigrid. “How could I possibly have had anything to do with your delivery route?”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it,” said Bard. “All that about your bad wrist, and the strategically placed mistletoe, and all that.”

Sigrid shrugged. “You can’t tell me you’re complaining, Da,” she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Oh, I’m not complaining,” Bard said. “I just feel like we might have had our strings pulled a little bit.”

“Is that a problem?” Sigrid wanted to know, and when Bard shook his head, she grinned. “Well, then. Maybe we pulled a string or two, but honestly, Da, would you even have seen him again if you hadn’t had to come and pick me up that evening?”

“I knew it,” said Bard. “I mean, you’re right, I wouldn’t have done, but -“

“Well, then,” said Sigrid again. “We figured you needed a chance to talk, that’s all. And, you know, you needed to get to know him a bit more and maybe get over who he is a bit.”

Bard raised his eyebrows, but he couldn’t quite deny it. “I don’t know if I’ve managed that yet,” he found himself confessing. “I’m totally out of my depth, Sig.”

“He’s just a person, same as you, Da,” said Sigrid. “Honestly, all of this -“ she gestured around them, “all of this is just a distraction. He’s just a person, and a really nice one at that. And if he wants to help us, because he likes you, what’s wrong with that?”

Bard groaned. “Don’t. I can’t just accept help like that. For hundreds of reasons.”

“Most of which are to do with your pride, Da,” said Sigrid gently. “You don’t have to do everything for us on your own, you know. You’re _allowed_ to accept help if it’s offered”

“Not if there’s a risk that there might be strings attached that might affect you,” said Bard, and he felt terrible for saying it, for suspecting Thranduil of such a thing, but he couldn’t keep the words back.

Sigrid rolled her eyes again. “I don’t think there would be, here,” she said. “He’s nice, he’s kind, he likes helping people - look at what he’s done for Tauriel - and he’s got more money than he knows what to do with, so if he chooses to use some of it to help us because seeing us happy makes him happy, is that such a bad thing?”

Bard shook his head. “I wish I could see it like you do,” he said. “I just - I can’t risk it. I can’t risk it going wrong and…I don’t know, him wanting us to pay it back, and we wouldn’t be able to. Or him expecting stuff from us, or…” He trailed off, miserably, and Sigrid stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him.

“Get to know him better, Da,” she said. “That’s the only thing you can do. Get to know him better, and then you’ll be able to trust him. Tauriel and Legolas say he’d never do something like that, he’s not that sort of person - well, they haven’t said it in so many words because I haven’t said to them what it is you’re worried about, but everything they’ve told us about him makes me sure he wouldn’t do that. I trust them, and - you know, if he was going to do something like that, why would he bother getting his kids to tell us what a nice person he is? He might pretend it himself, but Tauriel and Legolas, they’re genuine. And so is he. I don’t think for one moment that he’s going to screw you over, Da.”

“I wish I had your confidence, sweetheart,” Bard said. “I mean, I know he’s nice, I really like him, I want to trust him. But I just…I don’t know. I don’t know him well enough, and it’s too important to just go rushing in. I haven’t just got myself to think about, there’s the three of you as well, and Legolas and Tauriel. You’ve already been through so much, all of you, I don’t want to put you through more.”

“Oh, Da,” said Sigrid, “you’ve been through a lot as well. You deserve to be happy. I think he can make you happy, if you’ll only let him.”

“I want to,” said Bard. “I mean, he does. I’m just…this is really big. I haven’t even looked at anyone since we lost your Mam, and now here I am…and I already put too much on your shoulders. I shouldn’t be piling this on as well.”

“Don’t be silly, Da,” said Sigrid. “I’d far rather you talk to me about it than make yourself miserable trying to work it out on your own. Anyway, I’m fine. I want to help out. Like I said, you don’t have to do all this on your own.”

“You ought to be enjoying being a kid, not looking after your brother and sister all the time and listening to me complaining about stuff,” Bard protested, and Sigrid snorted.

“And what would I be doing? Honestly, Da, you’re not stealing my childhood or any of that rubbish. We’re a team, you and me. And Bain and Tilda, we’re all in it together. We all help each other out. Besides, this is great practice for being a grown-up.” She tightened her arms around him, and he hugged her close, burying his face in her hair for a moment. 

“What did I ever do to deserve you, sweetheart?” he murmured.

“Oh, you’ve only been the best Da in the world, every single day,” said Sigrid. “I think that more than makes you worthy of a team like us.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” said Bard, feeling more than a little overwhelmed. “And…I suppose we’d better get that coffee poured and get back to the others. Who I suspect have been having a similar conversation.”

Sigrid giggled, loosing her arms around him and stepping back. “I bet they have. Look, try not to worry too much, Da. Get to know him better, and everything’s going to be fine.”

“I’ll do my best, sweetheart,” said Bard, pouring the coffee into the mugs Sigrid had fetched down, adding sugar and milk, and handing her a mug, taking up the other one. “Come on, let’s go and see how they’re getting on.”

Sigrid tucked her hand through his arm, and they went back along the corridor towards the library. Bard felt a lot better all of a sudden for having spoken to Sigrid, and having heard her take on things. She might only be sixteen, but she was wiser than he was, he thought. He’d have to keep reminding himself of what she had said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying the story, do feel free to leave a comment and let me know - long or short or a single emoji, every single one absolutely makes my day. :)
> 
> I am [nocompromise-noregrets](https://nocompromise-noregrets.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr, by the way, so if any of you would like to come and find me there I would love to see you.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil and Tauriel have a similarly important conversation to the one Bard and Sigrid have been having...

Bard and Sigrid left the room in search of coffee, and Thranduil looked at Tauriel; his daughter was smiling, her eyes sparkling, and he could not help a smile of his own.

“You like Sigrid very much, don’t you, robin?” he said, and Tauriel blushed, glancing up at him. 

“Is it that obvious?” she said, and Thranduil chuckled.

“Only to those of us who know to look, I suspect,” he said. “Shall we sit down for a minute?” He moved to one of the armchairs by the fireplace and after a moment’s hesitation Tauriel followed, taking a seat in the other chair.

“Oh god,” said Tauriel, “are you going to give me the Talk?”

“Only if you think you want me to,” said Thranduil, thoroughly amused. “I am very pleased that you have found yourself someone who makes you happy.”

“Do you mean it?” said Tauriel, and Thranduil’s heart ached at the uncertainty in her voice; underneath everything she was still insecure, even after all these years.

“Of course I do,” he said gently. “I never say anything I don’t mean, robin, you know that.”

Tauriel nodded. “I suppose so. But…I don’t know, I didn’t know what you’d think. Because…” She trailed off, and Thranduil raised an eyebrow.

“Because she’s a girl, not a boy?” he inquired, and Tauriel nodded.

“Not everyone’s happy about that sort of thing,” she said, and Thranduil laughed.

“Do you really think I am in a position to complain?” he asked, and she looked at him for a moment and then let out a giggle, clapping her hand over her mouth.

“I suppose not,” she said. 

“Well, I’m glad we’ve cleared that up,” said Thranduil. “Although we should probably have a conversation about how you and Legolas feel about what is happening between me and Bard, but I think perhaps not just now. Maybe later, when they’ve gone home.”

Tauriel shook her head. “There’s no need, Papa. We both think it’s marvellous. Bard’s lovely, and the children are - well, you know what I think of Sigrid, but Bain and Tilda are nice too. We’re just glad it worked.”

Thranduil raised an eyebrow again. “You’re glad _what_ worked, robin?” he asked mildly, although he had a feeling he had some idea of it, and Tauriel clapped her hand over her mouth again, her eyes wide.

“I didn’t mean to say that, Papa!” she said. “Only we…we might have made sure you got the opportunity to talk to each other again. Because we could tell you liked each other.”

“And the little stunt with the mistletoe?” Thranduil inquired, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice, and Tauriel went scarlet.

“We might have…had something to do with that, too,” she said in a very small voice, and Thranduil chuckled softly.

“Well, I knew you had hung it up, you and your brother, because who else did the decorating? But I can only assume you had a motive other than just making the hall look nice for Christmas.”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” Tauriel burst out, still blushing. “You can’t tell me you’re complaining.”

Thranduil relented, and reached over to pat her hand. “Of course I’m not complaining, robin. I’m very happy. And very pleased to have got to the bottom of the mystery. I had my suspicions, but I wasn’t quite sure exactly what was going on.”

“It isn’t like we were doing something nefarious,” Tauriel protested. “Or, I don’t know, doing it for the wrong reasons. We just saw that you liked each other, and we wanted to make sure you both realised it, and did something about it, because we love you and we want you to be happy.”

“Well, I am very glad that you did,” said Thranduil. “Between you and me, I don’t think we would have managed to do anything about it otherwise.”

“That’s why we did it, Papa,” said Tauriel, in the tone she had always used when she felt he was stating the obvious, and Thranduil chuckled. 

“You are good children, all of you. Now, what about you and Sigrid?” he said mildly, and Tauriel, who had just returned to her normal shade, blushed scarlet again.

“I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,” she muttered, but after a second she visibly pulled herself together. “She’s so lovely, Papa. She’s almost the only one who really _sees_ me. I mean, there’s Arwen, of course, at school, but all the other girls there are so obsessed with clothes and money and boyfriends, and they don’t talk to me because I don’t care about any of that and I know what I’m talking about in lessons so they think I’m a know-all, and…ugh.” She made a gesture of disgust and Thranduil smiled a little ruefully; he could well remember what it was like not to fit in at boarding school, although he was glad Tauriel had at least one friend, the daughter of his acquaintance Elrond. “And then at the riding stables, there’s just me and Sigrid and the boys - Fíli and Kíli I mean - and all the pony club girls, and they’re funny with me because I never went to pony club and I’m adopted, and…” She trailed off, and Thranduil realised he had sat up in his chair, leaning forward in his outrage at what she had said.

“They’re funny with you because you are _adopted_? Why on earth -“

“They’re such snobs, Papa,” Tauriel said with a dismissive shrug. “I really don’t care about it, not any more, not now I know Sigrid and the boys. It was only before I got to know them that it bothered me. But they gave me the cold shoulder because I wasn’t in the pony club, and then they found out I wasn’t really, you know, a lord’s daughter but that my dad was the woodsman, and then they just started…gossiping about me behind my back. It was horrible, Papa, but I honestly don’t care about it any more. Anyway, I only have to see them in the holidays, and please don’t go phoning the riding school or anything, I can deal with it myself.” She wound down, looking worried, and Thranduil sighed, sitting back in his chair again.

“All right,” he said, “I won’t do anything about it. Although I may have to make some pointed comments to their parents the next time I see them socially, about how both my children are equal in my eyes.”

“Papa,” said Tauriel warily, but Thranduil shook his head.

“No, Tauriel, you must listen to me. You are just as much my daughter as Legolas is my son. Your parents are your parents, of course, but you have four parents, instead of two, and even if three of them are no longer here, I am here and I love you just as much as I love Legolas.”

“I know, Papa,” said Tauriel. “I know. You and Mama never made me feel any the less for not being born yours, and you are the best Papa I could wish for.” She paused, and then gave him a mischievous little smile. “Although I wouldn’t mind having a Da as well, sometime, if you felt so inclined.”

Thranduil just looked at her for a moment; he had not dared to think that far ahead, but something about Tauriel’s words made his heart turn over.

“We’ll see,” he said eventually, as calmly as he could manage. “It’s early days yet, and we have a lot to work out between us. But I think we were talking about you and Sigrid, were we not, rather than about me and Bard?”

Tauriel pulled a face, but then subsided. “I really like her, Papa,” she said quietly. “I mean… _really_. Seriously.”

Thranduil nodded. “I am glad. She has…taken the opportunity to reassure me of her intentions towards you, which are encouragingly honourable.” He couldn’t hide his smile at the look on Tauriel’s face.

“She _what_?” she almost gasped. “I…oh god, does this mean I have to talk to Bard about her?”

Thranduil chuckled. “I don’t think so, robin, unless you feel you really want to. I think he already understands.”

“Oh _god_ ,” said Tauriel. “I don’t know where I’d find the courage. I’m not brave like Sigrid.”

“You are perfectly brave, you know,” said Thranduil. “And if you felt you had to speak to Bard about Sigrid, you would do it, and perhaps it would be easier because you know he is not opposed to the idea of the two of you being together.”

“He isn’t?” said Tauriel, and Thranduil shook his head.

“Not at all. I don’t think I’m betraying a confidence by telling you. His only concern is that you don’t become distracted from your schoolwork, either of you, or spend your time being miserable because you miss each other too much, which is my only concern too, by the way.”

“We’ve already talked about schoolwork,” said Tauriel. “We know it’s important, and I’m helping Sigrid with the stuff I did last year, although honestly she’s so clever she hardly needs it. And…I’m going to miss her awfully, but at least we can keep in touch, it isn’t like we have to rely on letters or anything, and you said they might be able to come to see us at half term?”

“I think we might be able to arrange that,” said Thranduil with a smile. “As for keeping in touch via letter, it might have been longer to wait to hear from someone, but it was very exciting when a letter arrived.” He couldn’t help thinking of his last year at school, when he had already met Anna and was in the process of becoming friends with her, and anxiously awaited every letter that arrived, eagerly sending off replies and spending the intervening time reading and rereading her last letters.

“I don’t think I could bear the wait,” said Tauriel. “It was bad enough last term, but now we’ve been able to spend more time together, I’m dreading this term, a bit.”

“Last term?” said Thranduil, his eyebrow going up again. “How long have you two been -?”

“Since the beginning of the summer holidays,” said Tauriel. “I mean, we’ve known each other for a couple of years, from the riding school, and we became really good friends quite quickly, but then I came home from school in July and…I don’t know, something changed.”

“I don’t want to know what, exactly, do I?” said Thranduil, and Tauriel giggled, blushing.

“It wasn’t really like that at all, Papa,” she said. “It still isn’t. Neither of us is really ready for…well, most things. So we…don’t do them. Yet. Or maybe not ever.” She was blushing scarlet yet again, and Thranduil silently breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s all right, robin, I don’t need to know,” he said gently. “As long as you’re being careful and sensible and not doing things you’re not ready for, or one of you isn’t making the other one do things she isn’t ready for, then everything is fine.”

“All right,” she said. “And I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, only…we just wanted something that was ours, without everyone knowing about it. I mean, Legolas knows, he worked it out pretty quickly, you know how sharp he is, but everyone else…we just wanted to be private about it.”

“I quite understand,” said Thranduil. “Sometimes it’s nice to have something without having to tell the whole world about it, especially when the whole world is busy telling you you should be wanting something else.”

“It really really is,” said Tauriel. “But I’m glad you know, now. It’s getting to the point where keeping it a secret was getting to be a big thing, because of…well, everything, and because her family is here sometimes, and I don’t want to hide from them, or from you. I’m not ashamed of how I feel about her.”

“Good,” said Thranduil. “Hold onto that, and don’t ever feel anything other than proud of what the two of you share.”

“I will,” said Tauriel, and then she got up out of the chair and came to fling her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Papa. For everything.”

“No need to thank me, robin,” he said, holding her close for a moment. “It’s all part of the service, remember.”

“I know,” she said into his hair, her voice a little muffled. “But it’s worth saying anyway.”

“Well, I appreciate it very much,” he said, and then he let her go and she straightened up, looking flustered but happy. 

Bard and Sigrid came back in just after that, and from the looks on their faces, they had been having a similar conversation. Bard shot Thranduil an amused look, one eyebrow up and a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and Thranduil returned it in like manner; he was not worried that the girls would see them, for they had already returned to the book of Shakespeare they had been poring over earlier, and had eyes only for each other.

“I was going to suggest going outside and seeing what the others are up to,” Bard said, “if you’re up for that,” and Thranduil nodded.

“I think that’s a fine idea,” he said. “Let’s go and get wrapped up, and leave the Shakespeare scholars to it.”

Tauriel glanced at them and giggled, and he smiled at her as he got out of his chair. As long as they could weather the long weeks away from each other, they would be fine, he thought. And it did him good to see Tauriel so happy; she almost glowed with it, and he thought he had never seen her quite so contented.

Now all he needed to do was to come to an agreement with Bard about how their own relationship would work. That, he thought, was likely to be somewhat more complicated - but worth the work to get it right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying the story, do feel free to leave a comment and let me know - long or short or a single emoji, every single one absolutely makes my day. :)
> 
> I am [nocompromise-noregrets](https://nocompromise-noregrets.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr, by the way, so if any of you would like to come and find me there I would love to see you.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigrid and Tauriel have a little time to themselves in the library.

Sigrid turned the page, away from the terribly over-dramatic balcony scene with Juliet swooning and Romeo looking as though he wasn’t far off it himself. The next page had no illustrations, and she absently went to turn the page again, but Tauriel put her fingers on her wrist, nodding in the direction of the door, and Sigrid looked up to see her Da and Tauriel’s Da heading out of the room; she thought she’d heard them saying something about going outside to see what the others were up to, but she hadn’t really been paying attention, she had been too distracted by Tauriel’s warm presence next to her.

“So how awkward was that?” she said, trying for a jokey tone to cover up how shivery she suddenly felt at the touch of Tauriel’s fingers on her bare wrist. 

Tauriel smiled, looking nothing other than delighted. “Not really awkward at all,” she said. “Except for the bit where I told Papa we’re not really - you know, _doing_ anything much. And maybe the bit where I accidentally told him we fixed them up.” She giggled and Sigrid grinned. 

“How did he take it?” she asked. 

“Absolutely fine,” said Tauriel. “I think he’s just happy we did it, because it meant he got to sort things out with your dad.”

“I think they’d worked out we were up to something,” said Sigrid. “Da was pretty much the same, only I didn’t tell him, he asked. And he’s totally fine about us, just so you know, as long as we don’t get distracted from schoolwork or spend all our time moping after each other.”

“That’s more or less what Papa said too,” said Tauriel, smiling again, and smoothing a strand of hair out of Sigrid’s eyes. “Although I’m really going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too,” said Sigrid. “It’s going to be grim. But if we can come and see you at half term, that’s something, at least.”

“And we’ve got WhatsApp and Skype and things,” said Tauriel. “We’re not allowed to use our phones during the day, or during prep time, but we can have them between prep and bed. So there’s that.”

“There’s that,” Sigrid echoed. “It’ll have to do.”

“And we’ve got all the rest of today,” Tauriel said, and Sigrid smiled. 

“We have. Da won’t be wanting to go home until after dinner, I’m sure. Which suits me fine.” She tilted her head a little so that she could brush a kiss across Tauriel’s mouth.

“Me too,” Tauriel breathed, kissing her back. “And I can’t believe you spoke to Papa about me! I wouldn’t have dared.”

Sigrid eased back a little so that she could see Tauriel’s face properly. “Is it all right that I did?” she asked, a little worried that Tauriel might feel she had overstepped the mark.

But Tauriel was beaming. “It’s more than all right. It’s so romantic! Like in a novel or something. I mean, I’m guessing you didn’t ask him for my hand or anything like that, but still!”

Sigrid laughed a little sheepishly. “No, I didn’t ask him that. I just…I wanted him to know that I’m serious about you, and he doesn’t have to worry about us. That’s all.”

“You’re amazing,” said Tauriel, and she leaned in for another kiss, a little deeper this time, a little less fleeting, and Sigrid’s hands came up to rest on Tauriel’s shoulders, her fingers catching in Tauriel’s hair. 

“I just wanted to make sure he understood,” Sigrid said when they broke apart, and Tauriel smiled, resting her forehead against Sigrid’s.

“And he does,” she said. “I should say something to your dad, I guess, although I don’t know quite what, or how.”

“You don’t have to,” Sigrid said, “if you don’t want to. Da understands. He’s always been really good about - well, about everything, really. He’s definitely not the ‘nobody gets to come near my daughter’ type, although I think if I’d had a boyfriend he might have wanted to make sure everything was okay. But I never had time for boys.” She grinned. “I think he’s relieved it’s you, you’ll be less trouble than boys.”

“Or so he thinks,” said Tauriel, giggling, although she sobered almost immediately. “But no, I’m not going to be any trouble. I should tell him. I want to get on with him, anyway. Not just because of us, but because of him and Papa.” She giggled again. “I might have said to Papa that I wouldn’t mind having a Da, as well.”

Sigrid could not help the laugh that escaped her at that. “You didn’t! What did he say?”

“Only that it’s early days yet. But I meant it. We aren’t sisters so it isn’t weird. Anyway, we were together before they were.”

“Good point,” said Sigrid. “I’m not going to mention anything about having a Papa as well as a Da, not just yet. I think it’d just freak Da out worse, and he doesn’t need any encouragement where that’s concerned.” She smiled. “But I’d like it. And they’re perfect for each other, so if Da can only stop freaking out and let your Da help, so they can see each other more, hopefully by Easter they might have sorted themselves out.”

“We’ll see,” said Tauriel. “But we can all help, even if Legolas and I can only contribute ideas in the group chat, while we’re away. I suppose you and Bain and Tilda will just have to keep reassuring your dad.”

“And Fíli and Kíli will be able to come up with schemes if we need them,” said Sigrid, laughing softly. “They’re mad, but they’re actually really good at that bit.”

“They are,” said Tauriel, smiling affectionately. “They’re a lot of fun. Also I think Kíli has a crush on one of us, but I can’t work out which one it is. Me or Legolas or Papa, I mean.”

Sigrid giggled. “My money’s on Legolas. I mean, you’re all three of you stunningly beautiful with glorious hair, but did you see how Kíli was looking at Legolas yesterday? He keeps making noises about your Da, but I think he’s deflecting.”

Tauriel almost snorted with laughter. “Do you think so? I really hope it isn’t me, because it would be so awkward. I like him a lot, as a friend, but…well.”

“I’m pretty certain. Besides, I think he and Fíli have worked us out, they’ve just been being quiet about it. Which isn’t like them, but I think maybe they’re more sensitive than we give them credit for.” Sigrid grinned. “I mean, maybe we should give them more credit in general.”

“Maybe they are,” said Tauriel, still giggling. “And maybe we can be sensitive in return, and not say anything to Legolas. Unless we end up fixing those two up too.”

“Do you think he’d be interested?” asked Sigrid curiously. “I can’t quite work him out.”

Tauriel shrugged, smiling. “I don’t think he’s particularly bothered which bits a person has, it’s more about whether he likes the person themselves.” She giggled again. “I mean, I think he might be having a thing with one or other of my friend Arwen’s brothers, but I can’t quite work out if he really is, or which one, if he is.”

Sigrid frowned. “Wait, what?”

Tauriel grinned. “They’re identical twins, and he hangs around a lot with both of them at school, so it’s pretty much impossible to tell on all fronts. I have no idea, really.”

“What are they like?” Sigrid asked, curious again, and Tauriel waved her hand a little dismissively. 

“Ugh. Tall, stunning, long black hair, absolute pains in the arse. Arwen’s a lot nicer. Well, I suppose the twins are all right, but they’re proper pranksters and they take full advantage of nobody being able to tell them apart, and they don’t really have time for anyone except themselves and their friends. They’re really short and sharp with anyone else.”

“Well, Kíli’s got dark hair and he’s very good-looking,” said Sigrid, “speaking objectively because I’m not exactly qualified to comment.” She squeezed Tauriel’s hand. “So as long as Legolas isn’t picky about how tall people are, I think he might be in with a chance.”

Tauriel giggled. “I’d like to see Legolas with someone nice. The twins are…in the end I think they only really care about each other. They don’t have the capacity to care about other people very much.”

“Well, then,” said Sigrid, “once we’ve sorted out my Da and your Da, maybe then we’ll start on Kíli and Legolas.”

“Let’s see how it goes,” said Tauriel, “but in the meantime, if we only have the rest of today to be together, will you come and sit down with me for a bit, before the others all come back in for lunch?” She took Sigrid’s hand and tugged her over to the armchairs by the fire, dropping into one of them and pulling Sigrid down onto her lap, wrapping her arms around her. 

Sigrid buried her face in Tauriel’s hair for a moment, just breathing her in. She was already dreading having to say goodbye, but for now…for now this was absolutely the nicest way to make the most of the time they had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kíli/Legolas is absolutely my experimental pairing for this year, so we'll see how it goes. :D I mean, since Tauriel is otherwise engaged here, it's only fair for Kíli to still get to be smitten with a member of the Greenwood family :D :D :D (also I thought of it and couldn't stop giggling, so I've been laying very subtle hints for a while... XD )
> 
> I got my mum to take some pictures of the Shakespeare, which are posted [here](https://nocompromise-noregrets.tumblr.com/post/644391597577027585/a-few-shots-of-my-mums-old-copy-of-the-complete), and as you will see, the illustrations are exactly as melodramatic as I remember :D :D :D
> 
> Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying the story, do feel free to leave a comment and let me know - long or short or a single emoji, every single one absolutely makes my day. :)
> 
> I am [nocompromise-noregrets](https://nocompromise-noregrets.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr, by the way, so if any of you would like to come and find me there I would love to see you.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard and Thranduil have a kickabout with the kids in the garden, and then Bard gets to put a little of his expertise to use.

Bard and Thranduil shrugged into their jackets in the boot room, pulled their boots on and went out into the passageway; Thranduil tilted his head, listening, and then took Bard’s hand, leading him through an archway.

“I think they’re on the lawn at the front of the house,” he said, and Bard listened too; he could just about catch the sound of voices but couldn’t for the life of him tell where they were coming from.

“I’ll believe you,” he said, glancing around as they went under the archway; they came out onto a path that led to another archway, and out onto the big lawn. Bard realised that they were at the side of the house, and as he got his bearings he noticed that they were walking along outside the library, and then the living room. 

A football went bouncing past as they came to the corner of the house, and after a moment Bain came jogging after it. 

“Oh!” he said, “morning, Da! Sleep well?”

“Like a log,” Bard said. “Who’s winning?”

“Til and Legs are ganging up on me,” Bain grinned. “There isn’t really a goal, but they’re trying to get the ball past me, and mostly they’re succeeding.” He picked up the ball and ambled alongside them, rounding the corner of the house to the front lawn, where Tilda was bouncing on her toes and Legolas was standing on one foot, both of them waiting for Bain to return.

“Oh Da!” called Tilda, running up for a hug. “You’re awake!”

“I’m awake,” said Bard. “I hear you two are thrashing Bain at football.”

Tilda giggled. “Well, we’ve got an unfair advantage because there are two of us and Legolas can run fast.”

“I’ve been properly had,” said Bain. “But it’s fun anyway.”

“I was going to say, you’re loving it,” said Legolas happily, jogging up to them. “Is it lunchtime yet?”

“If you want it to be,” said Thranduil. “We were just coming out to see how you’re getting on, but if you want lunch we can go back in.”

“Unless you want to join in on Bain’s side,” said Legolas. “I think he could do with a hand. Or another pair of feet or two.” He grinned, and Bard glanced at Thranduil, was football something he did?

“I’m game if you are,” said Thranduil, and Bard shrugged. 

“Haven’t had a good kickabout in ages,” he said. “Go on then, Bain, I’ll join you, and the other three can see what they can do against us. I used to be pretty good at football.”

“I will join Tilda and Legolas, then,” said Thranduil, “although I’m sure I’ll only be a hindrance, because I was _never_ good at football at school, which is the last time I played. I mostly spent my time jogging up and down trying to avoid the ball.”

Bard laughed, accepting a pass from Bain and making his way across the lawn, though he let Tilda tackle him and take the ball from him when she ran up to him, yelling happily. There didn’t seem to be many rules, if any, and there were no goals, but the kids seemed to have worked out a scoring system, and by the time Tauriel and Sigrid poked their heads out of the front door to see where they were, they were more or less neck-and-neck. Thranduil had turned out not to be nearly as graceful when attempting to play football, and although Bard wouldn’t have dreamed of mentioning it, he found it rather endearing; and also reassuring, somehow, that there was something that Thranduil wasn’t particularly good at, something he couldn’t really do.

“Are you coming in for lunch?” Tauriel called, and they all looked at each other.

“I’m starving,” said Bain, and Tilda echoed him.

Legolas shrugged. “I could eat,” he said, “but then again, I can always eat.”

“I could manage something,” said Bard, and Thranduil nodded. 

“Lunch it is, then. Come on. Via the boot room, if you don’t mind.”

“All right, Papa,” said Legolas. “Come on, you two. See you in the kitchen!” He ran off round the corner, followed by Bain with the football, and Tilda bringing up the rear. Tauriel and Sigrid went back into the house, and Bard and Thranduil ambled slowly back towards the boot room. 

“That was fun,” said Bard, and he chuckled when Thranduil did not answer straight away. “You’re really not one for sports, are you?” he said, and Thranduil laughed a little sheepishly.

“Not really. I ride, of course, but not at all competitively. I used to fence, at school and at university, but other than that I’ve never been particularly fond of any sport. Football and rugby and cricket at school might just as well have been forms of torture.”

“I was better at football than rugby, which as you can probably imagine doesn’t go over all that well in Wales,” said Bard. “Couldn’t be doing with cricket or athletics, but I’ve always liked a good kickabout in the park or whatever. Bain loves football, and Tilda’s on her school team; Sigrid’s the only one who can’t be doing with any of it. Too busy with her books, and I can’t say I blame her.”

Thranduil chuckled softly. “I think I agree with Sigrid. I would rather read a book than - not that this little kickabout just now was not enjoyable.” 

Bard smiled at Thranduil’s sudden shift; presumably he had realised that he could have been construed as complaining. “No, I understand,” he said. “It’s more fun with the kids than it ever was playing on a proper team. No politics, no tactics, no idiots, just us and the kids having some fun.” He glanced around, seeing that they were out of sight of the children, and of any windows, and pulled Thranduil close to him for a moment, leaning up for a kiss. Thranduil slipped his arms around Bard’s waist, relaxing against him, parting his lips a little, and Bard darted his tongue against Thranduil’s, deepening the kiss a little. For a long, long moment this was all that existed in the world, just the two of them, together - and then the sound of excited voices came spilling out of the boot room and they pulled apart, reluctantly, both smiling.

“Come on,” said Thranduil. “We had better go and find out what they’re doing.”

“Never a dull moment,” said Bard, grinning and taking Thranduil’s hand; they made their way back inside, taking off jackets and boots and stowing them carefully. The children were in the kitchen by then, all five of them, examining the contents of the fridge and swapping ideas for what to have for lunch. 

“Shall we let you get on with it?” Thranduil asked them. “You can surprise us.”

“Can we?” exclaimed Tilda, and Tauriel laughed, ruffling the little girl’s hair.

“Of course we can,” she said. “Do you know how to make an omelette?”

“No,” said Tilda. “Is it nice?”

“Very nice,” said Legolas, “and the best thing is you can choose all sorts of things to go in it.”

“We’ll leave you to it, then,” said Bard, and he let Thranduil lead him out of the kitchen and down the corridor towards the living room. “All this and a cooking lesson too,” he said, shaking his head and laughing. “You three really are too good to be true.”

Thranduil chuckled. “I assure you, we are all very real. Now, if the children are making omelettes they won’t be long, so there’s no point getting settled on the sofa. Perhaps you can tell me about the rack of pikes in the hall while we wait?”

“I’d love to,” said Bard, a smile creeping across his face; it had been a long time since he had been able to use the knowledge he’d spent so long acquiring, the qualification that was now more or less useless to him. Not much call for museum curators with a specialism in medieval weaponry, not any more, which was why he was delivering parcels and not working in the museum in town, not since he’d been made redundant two years before. 

“Here,” said Thranduil, as they emerged from the corridor, gesturing to the long row of pikes propped in a wooden rack against the wall under the stairs. “They’ve been there for longer than I can remember. There’s a photograph taken in the 1890s in one of the albums in the strongroom in the cellar, and they’re there in that, too.”

“Seriously?” said Bard, shaking his head. “I suppose they’re in a good place, display-wise. I don’t know where else you’d put them.” He stepped forward, running his fingers over the head of the left-most pike, feeling it all come back to him. “This one’s real,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “Mid-seventeenth century, probably saw service in the Civil War. This one, too.” He moved along the row, lifting one or two of them slightly to test their weight. “This one’s a Victorian reproduction, though. And this one. This one, though…” He paused, lifted the pike concerned, put it back in the rack, turned it round, ran his fingers over it. “This one could well have seen service in the other civil war, the one two hundred years earlier. Do you happen to know which side of the Wars of the Roses your family was on?”

Thranduil laughed softly. “Not off-hand,” he said. “You can tell all of that just from - from lifting them, and -?”

Bard smiled. “A lot of it’s the design, the shape, the weight - and the balance, that’s how I can tell the reproductions from the real ones, the balance is all wrong on the reproductions. Also, it’s like the broadswords over the mantelpiece in the living room, the real ones have little nicks and dings that tell you they’ve been used in anger.” He shook his head, almost disbelievingly; it had been so long since he’d had the chance to do something like this. “Did you say there were photos?”

“Well, not of them being used originally,” said Thranduil with another laugh. “But yes, there are some albums in the strongroom in the cellar; a relative of one of my several-times great-grandmothers was a keen photographer and she took hundreds of photos of the house and gardens.”

“There’s a strongroom?” Bard asked. “As in, silver and jewellery, or weaponry, or archives?”

“All of the above,” said Thranduil. “I think I told you before, my family have never been in the habit of throwing anything away.”

“Oh, man,” said Bard. “Don’t let me down there unless you want to lose me for about a week.”

“I’ll bear it in mind,” said Thranduil, with a smile. “I don’t go down there much; in fact, I haven’t been in the strongroom for years. But it would be nice to look through it with someone who knows what they’re talking about.”

“Well, I don’t know much about silver, or jewellery, or archives,” said Bard, “but I can probably tell you a bit about some of it.”

“Then we’ll spend an afternoon down there sometime,” said Thranduil, moving behind Bard and sliding his arms around Bard’s waist, resting his chin on Bard’s shoulder. “I love seeing you like this.”

“Like what?” Bard asked, frowning a little, and Thranduil chuckled, pressing a kiss to the side of Bard’s neck. 

“Animated. As though you’re completely in your element. I wish you could be like this all the time.”

“Me too,” said Bard. “Probably have to wait till we get a government that cares about history and heritage and what it can do for the community…but don’t get me started about that, I won’t stop.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” said Thranduil. “Not about the government, there isn’t much I can do about that, but there must be something freelance that you could do, to put your skills to good use. I’ll ask around.”

“Thank you,” Bard murmured, leaning his head back against Thranduil’s shoulder and covering Thranduil’s hands with his own. “I could probably change my shifts a bit to fit other work in. I can’t tell you how much I want to jack it in completely, but -“

“I know,” said Thranduil softly, kissing Bard’s neck again, just underneath his ear. “You have responsibilities. But I’ll help you, in whatever way I can.”

Bard sighed softly and tilted his head, stretching to give Thranduil a little more access, letting his eyes flutter closed. “I want to get out of that life so badly,” he admitted in a whisper. “Not the kids, obviously, but…everything else. I’m just so sick of struggling to make ends meet, never seeing the kids, spending all my time in that sodding van, dealing with stroppy customers and out of control dogs and…having to go into that kitchen every morning, where Katy…where she…” He broke off, swallowing hard. “I’m miserable, all the time. The kids are the only bright spot I have any more…the kids, and now you.”

“We’ll work something out,” said Thranduil, kissing his way down Bard’s neck and then back up again, tightening his arms around Bard’s waist. “I promise. Let’s see how things go.”

“Mm-hmm,” said Bard, suppressing a shiver - and then the sound of running footsteps echoed along the corridor, and they eased reluctantly apart. 

“Lunch is ready!” called Tilda, before she’d come into view, and Bard looked at Thranduil with a sheepish smile. 

“Not what I’m hungry for, all of a sudden,” he said, shoving his low mood out of the way, “but I’ll take it.”

Thranduil gave him a delighted smile and laughed softly. “Maybe later,” he said quietly, as Tilda came skidding round the corner into the hall. “All right, Tilda, we’re coming. Be careful, you don’t want to fall over on the flagstones.”

Bard felt his heart turn over at the warmth in Thranduil’s voice when he spoke to his youngest, and Tilda gave him a beaming, dimpled smile. 

“It’s all right, I’m careful,” she said. “Lunch is ready! We made lots of different omelettes so everyone can choose, there’s mushroom and ham and spinach and cheese and…” 

Bard slipped his hand into Thranduil’s and they followed Tilda back down the corridor towards the kitchen and the sound of the children laughing and talking. If only they could do this every day, Bard caught himself thinking. That would be…well, it would be just about perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The strongroom, the photographs and the photographer are all inspired by real places, objects and people. :D
> 
> Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying the story, do feel free to leave a comment and let me know - long or short or a single emoji, every single one absolutely makes my day. :)
> 
> I am [nocompromise-noregrets](https://nocompromise-noregrets.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr, by the way, so if any of you would like to come and find me there I would love to see you.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard makes Thranduil an offer without quite thinking it through, and then has to call in a favour from a colleague.

By the time Wednesday arrived, Bard had lost count of the number of text messages that he and Thranduil had been pinging back and forth. He thought that Thranduil might be trying to distract himself from the thought of being without his children, so on the Wednesday morning, before he left the depot with his van full of parcels, he sent a message, chancing his luck. 

_If you want to talk later, when you get home after you’ve dropped the kids off, just drop me a message. I can take a break. x_

Thranduil’s reply didn’t arrive for a couple of hours, but that was standard; he wasn’t usually awake before eight-thirty or nine in the morning. Bard checked his phone after his first ten or so deliveries, and there it was on the lock screen. 

_I would love that, if it’s all right. I probably won’t be back until about five, but I think I’ll be in need of a chat. Thank you. x_

Bard couldn’t help smiling at the little x; they had both taken to signing their texts with those rather than their initials, and it made his heart do a tiny flip every single time. He unlocked his phone and began to reply, and then found himself making a really rash decision.

 _Come to ours if you like,_ he typed, _it’s tiny and untidy and full of - well, of all of us, but if you can’t face the house at first, you’d be welcome to come for dinner. x_ He pressed ‘send’ and then shook his head, wondering what he was thinking. He was going to have to finish his shift early, he was going to have to get home and tidy up, he was going to have to think of something to do for dinner…

 _Sig, I may have done something really stupid and invited Thranduil to come to ours for dinner when he gets back from dropping Legolas and Tauriel at school_ , was the next message he sent. _I’ll do my best to be back early and I’ll swing by the supermarket and get something to eat, but do you think you could get Bain and Til to help you tidy up just a bit, just enough to tackle the worst of it? I’ll make it up to you all I promise._

An hour or so passed before Sigrid’s reply came through, presumably sent while she was on morning break at school. 😂 _Oh Da, of course we can. We can make that chicken breasts wrapped in parma ham thing, it’s super quick and easy and looks really impressive._ 😁 _I’ll send you a shopping list._

Bard breathed a sigh of relief and texted back, _You’re a lifesaver, sweetheart. Sorry for the short notice._

_No worries, Da. He’s going to need looking after today, and who better than us to do it? Do you know what time he’ll be coming over?_

_He said he wouldn’t be back until about five, so I guess sometime between then and 6. I’ll let you know._

_Okay. And don’t worry, Da, it’ll be fine. See you when you get home._ ❤️ 

Bard smiled and shook his head; Sigrid was certainly more confident than he was. Just the thought of Thranduil in their tiny house made him feel oddly uncomfortable, as though he wouldn’t quite fit. He himself felt too big for it half the time, and Thranduil was a good four or five inches taller than he was. 

They hadn’t meant to stay there, him and Katy; they’d bought the place new just before Sigrid was born, and they’d always intended to get somewhere bigger within five years or so, move on up the property ladder as their family grew. But then the credit crunch had happened, and nobody was moving, the developers stopped working on building new houses on the estate, and by the time everything got started again, they were still selling new houses, and nobody wanted a second-hand house if they could get a new one with a good deal from the developers. They’d tried to sell a couple of times, got nowhere, and eventually resigned themselves to staying put - and then Katy had died and suddenly the property ladder was the last thing on Bard’s mind. So now there he was, with two teenagers and a ten-year-old, stuck in a tiny three-bedroomed house - the third bedroom wasn’t really even big enough for anything other than a child’s bed, so poor Bain couldn’t quite get his door shut, and Sigrid and Tilda were in bunk beds in the master bedroom because it was slightly bigger than the other bedroom - where Bard had squeezed his and Katy’s bed and their wardrobe and chest of drawers and had hardly any space to get in and out of the room. He’d have got rid of the double bed and swapped rooms with Bain so the lad could have space for a desk instead of having to do his homework on the dining table, only he couldn’t afford to replace it with a single bed. 

Downstairs was no better, every inch of space was crammed full, no built-in storage to speak of, only the shelves and cupboards he and Katy had bought from Ikea when they had one tiny baby, not three growing children, and he and the kids existed in a permanent state of barely restrained chaos. He shuddered to think what Thranduil was going to make of it.

His phone pinged between deliveries and he saw that it was Thranduil replying to his invitation. _I would love that, if you don’t mind. Sorry for the delay, we were just making sure the children have everything they need before we set off. Would six pm be all right? Can I bring anything? x_

_6 is fine_ , Bard typed quickly. _Don’t worry about bringing anything, Sigrid and I have a plan. You’ll just have to brace yourself a bit, our whole house would fit into your living room with a bit of space to spare round the edges. x_

_No problem_ , Thranduil replied almost immediately. _It’ll just be wonderful to be with you all - and not to have to go straight home to an empty house x_

_See you at 6 then. Looking forward to it. x_ Bard pressed ‘send’ and smiled, sending a second text with his address - and then had to head off for his next delivery. 

By lunchtime it was becoming obvious that there was no way he’d be able to finish all his deliveries in time to go to the supermarket, get home, help the kids tidy up and do dinner; it had always been a gamble, he supposed. Well, he had a favour or two to call in from some of the other drivers, he’d taken on some of their extra parcels a few times when one or other of them had had to finish early. Maybe one of them could do the same for him now. 

He sent a message to the drivers’ group chat and waited; two drops later a reply popped up from Dwalin, the guy who had changed routes with him before Christmas, when Bard hadn’t been able to face delivering to Thranduil’s house any more, after he’d found out who he was but before the kids had engineered them getting together. Dwalin was gruff and intimidating, but he had a heart of gold and Bard was rather fond of him. 

_I could take that on for you, laddie_ , the message said. _When and where?_

Bard pondered for a moment. He’d need to get to the supermarket, do the shopping, go home, help the kids to tidy, at least get dinner started before Thranduil arrived at six. 

_Would 4pm at the big Tesco on the edge of town work for you?_ he messaged back, maybe he could kill two birds with one stone. 

_I can make it work_ , came Dwalin’s reply. _See you then and there._

Bard sent back a thumbs up emoji, breathed a sigh of relief, and got on with attempting to deliver as many parcels as he could so that he wasn’t offloading too many onto Dwalin. 

Just before four, he headed for the big supermarket and parked up in a corner of the car park; no sense trying to get too close to the shop with the van, it was too big for the parking spaces and he could do without anyone having a go at him for taking up two spaces so near to the doors. A few minutes after he arrived, Dwalin’s van pulled into the car park; it was easily recognisable, with its matt black paint job, loud exhaust and Iron Maiden sticker in the back window. Bard leaned out of the door of his own van and waved - his was far from being the only white van in the car park - and Dwalin roared over to him, pulling up in the next space over. 

“So how many boxes have you got for me, lad?” he called as he got out of the driver’s seat, jogging to the back of the van and pulling the door open. 

“Not too many,” said Bard. “Thank you for doing this for me, Dwalin. I really appreciate it.” 

“No worries,” said Dwalin. “Kiddies all right?” 

“Yeah, they’re all fine,” Bard smiled. “Delighted to be back at school after the holidays, I’m sure you can understand.” 

Dwalin snorted. “Course they are. Well, your oldest hasn’t got too long left, has she?” 

“GCSEs this summer,” said Bard, yanking the parcel net that was still full of packages out of the side door of the van and handing it to Dwalin. “She’ll be going to sixth form though, so she’s got another couple of years left.” 

“Aye, you’ve always said she’s a smart one,” said Dwalin, stowing the net safely in the back of his van. “So what’s up tonight that you need to finish early?” 

Bard hesitated, not quite sure what to say, and Dwalin hooted with laughter. 

“Your face, laddie! Have you got a date?” 

Bard sighed, hoping he wasn’t blushing. “Maybe. Sort of.” 

“Maybe, sort of!” Dwalin snorted. “Who’s the lucky lady?” 

Bard coughed, considered making something up, and then thought better of it. “Gentleman, actually,” he said. “He’s…actually, you know I swapped routes with you last month? I sort of…met him on that route.” 

“So why’d you swap?” Dwalin wanted to know, not batting an eyelid, and Bard breathed a small sigh of relief; not that he had expected Dwalin to have a problem with it, not really, but even these days you never knew. 

“I was…trying to avoid him,” Bard admitted. “Bit freaked out by who he is. Then the kids got involved, his kids and mine, and…” 

“They Parent-Trapped you?” Dwalin chortled. “Laddie, that’s hilarious. So who is he?” 

Well, there was no point in making anything up, Bard thought, or dodging the issue. “You know Greenwood Hall, the big place about half an hour out of town?” 

“Oh yeah. Wait, that butler guy?” Dwalin’s eyebrows went up. 

Bard chuckled a little sheepishly. “No. The owner.” 

Dwalin whistled. “Jesus wept. No wonder you were freaked out. Good on you, laddie.” He chuckled. “But seriously, does he make you happy?” 

Bard couldn’t help his smile. “Yeah. Yeah, he does. Even if I can’t figure out how on earth we’re going to make everything work.” 

“You’ll think of something.” Dwalin shook his head, grinning, and clapped Bard on the shoulder, hard; although he had to reach up to do it, being six inches or so shorter than Bard, he was built like a brick outhouse and had the strength to match. “Now, go sort yourself out, and I’ll get on and get these parcels to their rightful owners. Have fun!” He slammed the back door of his van and went to get back behind the wheel. 

“I’ll try,” said Bard. “Cheers for doing this. See you tomorrow.” 

“No worries,” said Dwalin. “First thing at the depot, same as every day. See you then.” And off he went, roaring out of the car park, leaving Bard to go into the supermarket and work his way down the shopping list Sigrid had sent him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying the story, do feel free to leave a comment and let me know - long or short or a single emoji, every single one absolutely makes my day. :)
> 
> I am [nocompromise-noregrets](https://nocompromise-noregrets.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr, by the way, so if any of you would like to come and find me there I would love to see you.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil comes over for dinner with Bard and the kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My posting schedule has gone a bit haywire this week - I've not been particularly well, although I think I'm on the mend now. Today is my birthday, and to cheer myself up over being a) ill, b) in lockdown and therefore c) unable to go to the pub to celebrate, here is chapter 17, in which Thranduil visits Bard and the kids at home, more or less giving Bard conniptions even though it was his idea. XD

By the time Bard got home, just before five, the kids had already managed a creditable amount of tidying. The dining table was clear of its usual piles of paper, school books, letters and bills, as was the coffee table; the sofa and all the chairs were clear too, Tilda’s toys and craft kits and Bain’s art supplies all stashed in the boxes on the shelf unit, Bain’s game controllers stacked tidily on top of the games console for a change, and the floor looked freshly vacuumed. The vacuum cleaner was running upstairs and Bard could hear the faint sound of water running over it, and not one of the three kids was anywhere to be seen. 

Bard whistled under his breath as he put the shopping bags in the kitchen, and Sigrid put her head out of the downstairs loo, wearing rubber gloves and clutching a cleaning cloth and spray bottle. 

“Hi, Da,” she said. “We’re nearly finished, we think. Just got to finish up in here, Til’s doing the bathroom and Bain is vacuuming, and then all that’s left to do is wipe the kitchen surfaces down and set the table. And cook dinner, did you get everything?”

“I think so,” said Bard, unpacking the bags and beginning to put everything away. “You’ve done a great job, all three of you.”

Sigrid grinned. “Well, we’ve seen his house just like you have. We don’t want to put up a bad show. Anyway, it all needed doing really, we didn’t get chance on Saturday and of course on Sunday we weren’t here.”

Bard nodded; they tried to keep on top of the basic housework, cleaning and so on, but it wasn’t always easy. He was barely there, of course, and he didn’t want the kids spending their entire childhood cleaning the house. “Well, you’re a bunch of stars and I’ll definitely be making it up to you. Pick something you want to do, the three of you, and I’ll try and sort it out.”

“How about a day out with you and Tauriel and Legs’s Da?” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at him, and he laughed. 

“Go on with you, sweetheart,” he said. “You can stop engineering things now, you achieved your goal.”

Sigrid laughed. “What if we just like being around both of you? He’s nice, Da. Anyway, if you only get to see him when we’re there, because you’ve got to look after us, we’ll have to do things together as a family anyway. Although I can totally keep an eye on Bain and Til if you ever want some time alone with him.”

“Sig, I can’t - you already look after them most of the time when I’m not here.” Bard shook his head, and Sigrid rolled her eyes.

“Which means I’m perfectly capable of doing it a bit more. It’ll be nice to go there for weekends sometimes, but you ought to go on your own every now and then.”

“I never see you anyway,” Bard protested, and Sigrid rolled her eyes again.

“We haven’t got time for this, Da. Let me finish up in here, I won’t be a moment, and then I’ll come and give you a hand with the kitchen and we can get dinner started.” She vanished back into the tiny room, and Bard sighed, finishing putting the shopping away and then setting to with a cloth and cleaning spray, getting the work surfaces and the top of the cooker clean. 

Sigrid soon came to help him, and by the time Bain and Tilda had finished upstairs they had most of the dinner preparation done and were nearly ready to put the chicken into the oven. 

“All right, you two?” said Bard. “Thank you for tidying up, it all looks great.”

“You owe us big time, Da,” said Bain, but he was grinning, and Bard rolled his eyes and ruffled the lad’s hair.

“I was saying to Sigrid, you three come up with something you’d like to do and we’ll see about a day out or something,” he said. 

Bain grinned. “You need to invite Legs’ and Tauriel’s dad along,” he said. “He’ll be on his own till Easter, won’t he?”

“Definitely invite him,” said Tilda. “He’s nice.”

Bard looked at Sigrid, who gave him one of her patented I-told-you-so looks right back, and he laughed a little helplessly. “Fine, fine, we’ll all do something together. Now, let’s get this into the oven and we’ll set the table, and then we can have a bit of a sit down till Thranduil gets here.”

“We’ll have to pull the table out from the wall, Da, if there’s five of us,” said Bain, and Bard nodded. 

“Right you are,” he said; the table usually lived against the wall to save space, and they would sit one at each end and two on one side of it, but of course if Thranduil was joining them they would need to be able to get to the other side. “Bain, can you sort that, like we did for your Granny and Grampy at New Year?”

“Already on it,” said Bain, ducking back into the living room, and Bard turned his attention back to the chicken, carefully pouring the sauce over it and hoping it would turn out all right.

The kids formed a chain to carry plates and cutlery out to the dining table in the corner of the living room, since there wasn’t enough space for them all to come in and get things, and Bard put the chicken in the oven and set the timer. Half an hour, by which point Thranduil would probably be here, and he found he was getting more and more nervous by the minute. The way he and the children were living had been abstract for Thranduil until now, and so far outside his experience that he probably couldn’t even imagine it; but as soon as he stepped through the front door it would become real, and Bard wasn’t sure if he could bear the humiliation.

Well, it was done now. And…if they were really going to make a go of things, together, they were both going to have to be honest with each other, and that included letting Thranduil see their house, and what their life was like. If a little tidied up and edited, perhaps. Bard was just going to have to have the confidence to say to himself, _yes, this is us, this is our life_ , and not be ashamed of how little they had by comparison.

They all settled down in the living room, Tilda curling up against Bard’s side on the sofa with the book she had to read for school, Bain having a round of his favourite racing game on the Playstation that Bard had picked up second-hand for the lad’s tenth birthday, not all that long after they’d lost Katy, and Sigrid in the armchair with her nose in her study notes for Romeo and Juliet. Bard absently twined one of Tilda’s plaits around his fingers, trying to suppress the nervousness that was trying to eat him up from the inside out, and half-listened to her explanation of what was going on in the story, and what her teacher had said they needed to look out for.

The doorbell rang at exactly six, and Bard jumped despite himself, his heart suddenly thumping hard. 

“Do you want me to get that, Da?” Sigrid asked, all innocence, and he gave her a look. 

“No, sweetheart, it’s all right. I’ll go,” he said, hauling himself out of the sofa’s sagging cushions and heading for the door, pausing by the mirror in the hallway to scrub one hand through his hair. Not that it helped much, and he still looked tired, but - well, Thranduil had seen him like this often enough when he was still making deliveries to Greenwood Hall, and it hadn’t seemed to put him off. 

He could see Thranduil’s outline through the frosted glass panel in the front door, tall and dark-clad, bright-headed, and he drew in a steadying breath before he pulled the door open.

“Bang on time,” he said, wanting to brazen it out, trying not to lose the plot at the sight of Thranduil on his doorstep, dressed all in grey and black as usual, his hair braided out of the way and a small hessian carrier bag in his hand, looking…well, stunning, as usual, and more than a little apprehensive, although he smiled warmly at Bard’s greeting.

“I’m glad,” he said. “It was a bit of a job to find you. I went past the end of the road at least twice.”

Bard shook his head, groaning inwardly. “Sorry - I forgot to warn you, it’s a bit of a rabbit warren round here, and this bit isn’t signposted properly. Still, you found us. Did you park up all right?”

Thranduil nodded. “I hope I haven’t taken anyone’s parking space. I didn’t want to put the car out here, the road looks too narrow for anyone to get past, so I parked just round the corner.”

“You ought to be all right,” said Bard, standing back and ushering Thranduil into the house. “They didn’t plan for enough spaces, or for people maybe needing to have two cars in one household. But don’t get me started. Come on in.” He closed the door, and looked up at Thranduil, who was standing very close - well, he didn’t have much choice, Bard thought, the hallway was tiny. “Living room’s through there,” he started to say, but then Thranduil tilted his chin up with one finger and bent his head for a kiss, and Bard stopped thinking and talking, letting his arms wrap around Thranduil’s shoulders instead. 

“Thank you for inviting me over,” said Thranduil quietly after a moment, easing back enough to speak. “I can’t tell you how nice it is to come to a house that isn’t empty.” He smiled. “And that already smells quite deliciously of dinner. I brought these - I know you said not to, but I couldn’t turn up empty-handed.” He lifted the hessian bag, drawing out two bottles of very fancy-looking raspberry lemonade. “I thought you probably wouldn’t want wine tonight, since you’ll have to be up early, but we might all be able to share these?”

Bard looked at the bottles for a moment, somehow incredibly touched that Thranduil had considered his early start, and then back up, into Thranduil’s eyes, deep blue and full of feeling. “They’re perfect,” he said. “Thank you. Let me put them in the fridge.” He tilted his head up for another kiss, and then made himself step away, taking the bottles of lemonade and ducking into the kitchen to stash them in the fridge to chill. Thranduil came to lean in the doorway, the crown of his head perilously close to the top of the frame, and Bard sighed inwardly, what was he even thinking, bringing his beautiful, refined, moneyed, _ridiculously tall_ lover into his tiny shoebox of a house?

A squeal of tyres and a crash echoed from Bain’s computer game, followed by an admirably restrained “Dammit!”, and broke the ice; Bard rolled his eyes, and Thranduil laughed. 

“I suspect he did not want to do that,” he said, and Bard chuckled. 

“Probably not. Come on, let’s go and face the rabble.” He ushered Thranduil into the living room, trying not to look at the barely-contained chaos, and all three kids turned to look at them, beaming smiles and chorusing their helloes.

“Hello,” said Thranduil. “How are you all this evening?”

“All right,” said Tilda. “I’ve got a book to read for school.” She waved it at him, and Thranduil smiled.

“Is it any good?” he asked, and Tilda drew in a deep breath, preparing to launch into a long and detailed explanation of the plot, but Bard forestalled her. 

“In a bit, Til,” he said. “Shove up and make some room so Thranduil can sit down, all right?”

Tilda subsided and shuffled along the sofa, patting the cushion next to her for Thranduil to take a seat; he did so, looking amused and more than a little bit charmed, and Bard settled next to him.

“Did you just crash, Bain?” he asked his son, and Bain rolled his eyes and groaned.

“Yeah, there’s this really difficult bit, it’s got a double bend and a banked bit and I can do it slowly but if you do it slowly all the others beat you, so it’s…” He trailed off, evidently looking for a word to express his feelings that he could use in polite company. “It’s pants,” he said after a moment, and everyone laughed. 

“It sounds as though you need some more practice,” said Thranduil, and Bard groaned.

“Don’t encourage him,” he said. “We barely get to watch TV as it is.”

Bain protested, but Sigrid stretched out her leg and nudged him with her toes. “Not now, Bain,” she said. “Company, remember?”

Bain subsided, and Bard shot Sigrid a grateful smile. “Did you get the kids settled at school all right?” he asked Thranduil after a moment, and Thranduil nodded, smiling a little sadly. 

“It doesn’t take long these days,” he said. “Mostly I just get their luggage out of the car and off they go to their friends. They don’t need their terribly uncool papa cramping their style.”

Bard chuckled. “I’m sure that’s not true,” he said, and Thranduil shrugged. 

“Maybe a little bit,” he said, still smiling, and Bard thought he could risk squeezing his hand, just briefly. 

“Tauriel says she misses you,” said Sigrid after a moment, fishing her phone out of her pocket and waving it for illustration. “They’re allowed phones till bedtime the day before school starts, she said. Then it’s evenings only after that.”

“Does she?” The smile that lit Thranduil’s face was warm and surprised and genuine, and it made Bard’s heart turn over to see it. “Well, I miss her and her brother very much, so it is very kind of you all to have me here this evening, so that I don’t have to go straight back to an empty house.”

Sigrid shrugged and smiled. “Don’t mention it,” she said, “it’s nice to have you here. And to have Da home a bit early.”

The oven timer went off, sparing Bard from having to answer that, and he went to deal with dishing up, hoping that Sigrid would stay put and keep the conversation going. But she appeared in the kitchen after a moment or two, rummaging in the fridge for the salad they’d put together earlier, and Bard gave her a slightly panicked look. 

“Don’t worry, Da,” she said, “Til’s telling him about her book, and I think he’s enjoying it. I think it’s doing him good not having to be kid-less just yet.” She smiled then, softly. “I think it’s good you asked him over tonight,” she said. “I know it isn’t much, here, and goodness only knows he’s too tall to fit anywhere, it’s bad enough for you - but he’ll understand better now.”

“How do you mean?” Bard asked, carefully taking the tray of chicken out of the oven and resting it on the stovetop. 

“Well, it’s all been abstract until now, hasn’t it? He knows you’re working all the hours you can get, but he hasn’t seen why, he hasn’t seen what you’re trying so hard to keep going. He hasn’t exactly had much experience of the real world, I’ll bet, but now he knows what it looks like.”

“Tiny, cramped and full of clutter?” Bard said, transferring everything to a serving dish - might as well at least try to look sophisticated, he thought, rather than plunking it all onto plates out here and carrying them in.

“Like a home,” said Sigrid, coming up behind him to hug him. “With three kids whose Da loves them so much he’s busy working himself to the bone to look after them.”

“What brought that on?” Bard wanted to know, and Sigrid let him go, smiling.

“Nothing,” she said. “Just that I think it’s good that he’s seen what you’re working for, now. That’s all.” She looked in the cutlery drawer for the salad servers, which never got used, ran them under the tap and wiped them dry, and then stuck them in the salad bowl. “I’ll take this in,” she said, “you bring the chicken.”

“Come back for some glasses,” Bard said, remembering the raspberry lemonade that Thranduil had brought, and getting the bottles out of the freezer. “I’ll bring these in first.” He took the bottles in and put them on the table, and smiled as he saw that Tilda had snuggled right up to Thranduil on the sofa and was telling him in great detail about her book. 

He ducked back into the kitchen to get the serving dish and a spoon to dish up with, and almost ran into Sigrid, carrying a pile of glasses.

“That lemonade looks lovely, Da,” she said, and he couldn’t help a smile.

“Thranduil brought it,” he said quietly. “Seeing as it’s a school night for pretty much everyone.”

“Oh, that was nice of him,” Sigrid said mildly, smiling, and Bard nodded.

“I thought so,” he said, and carried the food into the living room, setting it down on a heatproof mat in the middle of the table. “All right, dinner’s ready,” he said. “Kids, come on, come and sit up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying the story, do feel free to leave a comment and let me know - long or short or a single emoji, every single one absolutely makes my day. :)
> 
> I am [nocompromise-noregrets](https://nocompromise-noregrets.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr, by the way, so if any of you would like to come and find me there I would love to see you.


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